
ipiiiiiiiilili 



ill 



|,r.:. ■,.(,!,!. „:::-.: 



Biiilif 










[i'MMh 












i;j:|!;iif 






ii:i*l;^ii;:'' 



■'islll 







«^ •••-o' -^ 
















V.0^ 



'bV" 



^^•n^. 







'. "-^^O^ o^, 
































A^ - *P " aS 









i^^f;^*^^^^^ 



POEMS 



By 

Rev. Henry Burns Hartzler, D.D. 

Late Editor of "The Evangelical" 

and 

Bishop of the United Evangelical Church 




Publishing House 
of the United EvangeUcal Church 

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 






COPYRIGHT, 1920. BY 
PUB. HOUSE of the U. E. CHURCH 



I 

i)EC 20 1920 
g)CI.A605063 



DEDICATED TO 
THE DEAR COMPANION 

SARAH A. HARTZLER 

WHOSE CONSTANT LOVE AND 

DEVOTION ENCOURAGED 

AND INSPIRED 

THE AUTHOR OF THESE POEMS 

THROUGH 

FIFTY-FIVE YEARS OF 

BEAUTIFUL MARRIED LIFE 



INTRODUCTION 

FROM youth to old age my beloved father was 
a poet in spirit — and that is one reason why 
his poetic works are real poetry. 

HE also had the gift of felicitous expression 
— the ability to translate poetic thought 
into poetic language. 

DL. MOODY, world-famous evangelist, once 
♦ spoke of father as ''the finest English 
preacher on the American continent." 

His gift of illuminating every subject on 
which he spoke with graphic, gripping English, 
is also evident in his written works, both prose 
and poetry. 

WE read, ' ' Blessed are the pure in heart, for 
they shall see God." 
Father's purity of spirit is well known to his 
hosts of friends — he had visions of God, of 
Heaven, of things present and things to come — 
poetic visions. 

These visions he translated into beautiful 
poems. 

5 



THESE poems, selected from the hundreds he 
wrote, over a span of sixty years, many of 
them published and republished in various peri- 
odicals both here and abroad, are here repro- 
duced in loving memory of a great and good man 
whose fruitful life was dedicated to one purpose 
— and that purpose always uppermost — to serve 
well his God and his fellowmen. 

GO forth, little book, and transmit some- 
thing of his beautiful, humble, helpful 
spirit to every reader. 

RoLLiN Zeller Hartzleb. 



CONTENTS 

Half-tone of Author Frontispiece 

Dedication 3 

Introduction 5 

Christmas 9 

New Year 20 

Early Poems, 1859-1876 34 

Poems on Love and Friendship 61 

Children and Childhood 75 

Missions and Missionaries 82 

Easter 90 

Devotional Poems 98 

Poems on the Di^anity 113 

Birthday Anniversaries and Special Occasions 125 

Hymns 143 

Miscellaneous 166 

In Memoriam 191 

Death and the Hereafter 218 



Christmas 



CHRISTMAS DAYS OF LONG AGO. 

Christmas Days of long ago, 

1 see your lights across the snow ; 
I hear your voices, sweet and low, 
And feel the mystic thrill and glow 
That made my child heart love you so, 
Christmas Days of long ago ! 

Christmas Days of old, so dear. 
Would God that I could bring you here. 
And know again the sunny cheer, 
The simple joys, the holy fear. 
The solemn sense of Jesus near, 
That made those days of old so dear. 

Christmas Days of long ago, 
You sing to me across the snow ; 
With playful hands of childish glee 
Across the years 3'ou beckon me ; 

1 hear again the old refrain, 
And this old heart is young again ! 

9 



10 CHRISTMAS POEMS. 

''GLORY TO GOD!" 

If angel lips may raise this song, 
And angels roll the strain along, 
Oh, may not we repeat it now. 
As at the Saviour 's feet we bow ? 
We know Him who now reigns above ; 
His nature and His name is LOVE. 
The Babe of Bethlehem reveals 
The tenderness the Father feels. 
We feel with joy in Jesus' face, 
And see Jehovah's matchless grace, 
A world redeemed may shout and say. 
This holy, happy Christmas Day: 
''Glory to God!" 

CHILDHOOD'S CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Of all the happy, vanished days 
Whose golden light around us plaj's, 
None greet the heart with brighter rays. 
Than childhood's radiant Christmas Days. 

Like flowery vales and fairj^ bowers 
Are all its bright and storied hours, 
Where angels come and go at call. 
While waves of music rise and fall, 
And Hope and Love run wild and free, 
From morn to eve, in childish glee. 



CHRISTMAS POEMS. 11 

From out the past sweet faces rise, 

Like clustered stars in summer skies : 

Our dear, departed ones appear, 

With smiles of love and words of cheer; 

And once again we clasp the hands 

Of childhood's true and faithful friends. 

Those days where happy childhood played 

In dark eclipse of age may fade ; 

But through the gloom one star shall glow, 

Whose light forever we shall know — 

That gem of Night's fair diadem. 

The Star that rose at Bethlehem. 

THE CENTURY'S LAST CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Ere fadeth from the darkening sky away 

The dying Century's last sweet Christmas Day, 

Once more "we would see Jesus," if we may. 

We would see Jesus midst the sham and show, 
The pride and pomp of this vain world below. 
That blinds and dazzles foolish mortals so. 

We would see Jesus in His rightful place ; 
Earth radiant with the beauty of His face ; 
All nations walking in His love and grace. 

We would see Jesus while He is so near, 
Lest like a fading star He disappear 
Beyond the sunrise of the dawning year. 



12 CHRISTMAS POEMS. 

We would see Jesus, lest we go astray, 

By false lights from His footsteps lured away. 

And basely with the world His cause betray. 

We would see Jesus, hear His voice ring true 
Through all the falsehoods old and follies new. 
To rouse His laggard Church to dare and do. 

We would see Jesus more than all beside ; 
And whatsoe 'er this day we be denied. 
With sight of Him we shall be satisfied. 

Once more we would see Jesus, Lord, we pray, 
Ere fadeth from the sky with lingering ray 
The dying century's last sweet Christmas Day. 



FROM CHRISTMAS DAY 
To Second Advent Day. 

Christmas, once more! O Day of Peace and 

Joy! 
Sweet Day, with Memory and with Hope 

aglow ! 
This old world lifts her soiled and shadowed 

face 
Up to thy dawning light, and with dim eyes 
Looks through a mist of tears to catch thy 

smile, 



CHRISTMAS POEMS. 13 

And fain would greet thy coming as of yore, 
With answering smile and song and happy 
cheer. 

We thank Thee, blessed Jesus, for this day, 
The day that shrines Thee Babe of Bethlehem ! 
Its light falls soft on every baby 's face. 
Its kiss on every burdened mother's cheek, 
Its touch of tenderness on every home, 
On every cradle, every little grave ! 

But 0, Thou holy, only Son of God, 
The days are long since Thou hast gone away. 
And dark and sad the weary years of time ! 
We love the Christmas Days Thou sendest still. 
We joy in hope and faith, and patient wait, — 
But wilt not Thou Thyself soon come again' 

Answering at last the old Seer's age-long 

prayer. 
Lord Jesus, come ! ' ' Then shall our Christmas 

Days 
Come to their consummation in ''That Day," 
The Day of days. Day of Eternity, 
When He, whose only right it is, shall reign, 
Without a rival, evermore. Amen ! 



14 CHRISTMAS POEMS. 

OUR HEARTS SHALL GIVE THEE ROOM. 

Jesus ! name of names the sweetest far 
That ever thrilled the air of night or day! 
Jesus ! Thy blessed name makes fragrant still 
The storied hills and vales of Bethlehem. 
There from a distant world Thou didst appear, 
Forsaking throne and crown and palace halls, 
To cast Thy lot with all the lowly poor 
And bear the woes of lost and sinful man. 
Earth had no open door of home or inn, 
No welcome for the helpless little child, 
But, swathed in mother love and swaddling 

bands. 
Sweet Mary laid Thee in a manger bed 
Christ, we welcome Thee, for Thou hast come 
To tarry with us and our little ones. 
Our glad and grateful hearts shall give Thee 

room 
And warm, sweet atmosphere of purest love. 

THE ANGEL MESSAGE. 

The shades of night in slumber fold the green 

Judean hills. 
And one great wave of holy calm the lovely 

valleys fills. 
The silvery starlight softly sifts o 'er dreaming 

sea and shore. 



CHRISTMAS POEMS. 15 

And broods on sleeping Bethlehem as in the 

nights of yore. 
The shepherds keep their nightly guard their 

browsing flocks around, 
And wait the morning as they tread their 

often trodden round. 

But lo ! a sudden glory shines in splendor from 
the skies, ^ 

And flashing from its burning beams, a mighty 
Angel flies. 

He cries aloud, in joyous tone, "Fear not! 
Behold I bring 

Good tidings of great joj^ to you, from Heav- 
en 's benignant King : 

In faithfulness He hath fulfilled the promise 
of His Word, 

For unto you is born this day a Saviour, 
Christ the Lord." 

let our grateful hearts respond, and catch 

the glad refrain : 
To God be glory, peace on earth, and sweet 

good will to men ! ' ' 

FIRST AND SECOND ADVENT. 

Lord Jesus, Thou hast come! The Christmas 

time 
Repeats the story and the song sublime. 



16 CHRISTMAS POEMS. 

" He that should come" Thou art — we know 
Thou art, 
For Thou hast satisfied the longing heart, 
And out of darkest, starless, hopeless night 

" Brought Life and Immorality to light," 

So wilt Thou come again, as Thou hast gone : 
Wilt come in glory to receive Thine own. 
Yea, Thou wilt answer soon the old Seer 's cry, 
' ' Lord Jesus, come ! ' ' and through the rending 
sky, 
"With all Thy saints and angels wilt descend, 
And earth's long night of sin and death shall 
end. 

THE SWEET OLD STORY. 

The story of stories will never be old, 

Of stories the sweetest that ever was told. 

How Jesus came down from the home of the blest, 

To nestle awhile on a mother's soft breast: 

His hall of reception a stable and stall. 

By angels proclaimed as the Saviour of all ; 

By shepherds and wise men with rapture 

adored — 
Creator and creature, bondservant and Lord. 
Sweet story ! O tell it again and again. 
Glad tidings of joy for earth's sorrow and pain! 
Proclaim it till e\ery nation shall hear. 
And Christ in His kingdom and glory appear. 



CHRISTMAS POEMS. 17 

AGAIN. 

We hear again the angels' glad refrain, 
Proclaiming "Peace on earth, Good-will to men." 
We see again, upon the kindling day 
The lights of Christmas round our cradles play. 

O Christ, on this sweet day of Christmas grace, 
Thy smile of love lights every baby 's face. 
On every little grave Thy lilies bloom, 
With fragrance caught from Life's fair Other 
Room. 

THIS CHRISTMAS DAY. 

This Christmas Day is like a frame, 

A golden frame, 
That rims a Face divine and fair. 
With eyes of light and sunlit hair, 

A face more sweet 
Than ever shone in crowded street. 
Where thousands pass and thousands meet. 

Without the Christ, what is this day. 

This Christmas Day? 
An empty frame upon the wall 
Of Father Time's memorial hall; 

An empty frame. 
That bears, at best, a stranger's name. 
Who once to earth from glory came. 



18 CHRISTMAS POEMS. 

Let no man take thy Lord away 

From Christmas Day, 
And leave thee but a mocking void, 
With faith and hope and love destroyed. 

Nay, hold thou fast 
That priceless portion now thou hast. 
Through all thy days, unto the last. 



FROM BETHLEHEM TO OLIVET. 

Since Jesus came, a Babe, to Bethlehem, 
Old Earth has borne that dear and hallowed 

spot 
"Well-nigh two thousand circuits round the 

sun; 
And o'er this watching, waiting, weary world 
Sweet Christmas Day has dawned and died 

away 
"Well-nigh two thousand times, for love of 

Him. 

* * * * * 

Again the light we see, the song we hear. 
The coming of the Christmas Day we hail ; 
And as we sing, we watch and wait and pray 

To see Him come "in glory," as He said. 

# * * * # 

Long has He tarried ' ' far above all heavens ; ' ' 
Earth rolling onward through the darkening 
age; 



CHRISTMAS POEMS. 19 

The whole creation travailing in pain, 

Unhelped, unhealed, until He came again. 

* * * * * 

But Christ will come again, in His good time — 
He said He would — and it will not be long ! 
Sure as at Bethlehem His baby feet 
The way of earthly life began to tread — 
Sure as His nail-marked feet stood at the last 
At journey's end nigh unto Bethany, 
Whence He ascended to the Father's house — 
So, surely, shall those blessed feet once more 
Stand on the Mount of Olives in ''that day" — 

That day for which all other days were made. ' ' 

* * * # * 

Sing on then still your happy Christmas 

songs. 
Until the Advent trumpet rends the sky, 
And still ''go even unto Bethlehem," 
For just beyond, expectant Olivet 
Stands waiting for the coming of His feet ! 



New Year 



DEPARTING YEAR, FAREWELL. 

Go thou thy lonely way, Old Year of grace ! 
Behold a glad New Year comes on apace ! 
Go, take thy place and share the common fate 
Where all the longing, groaning Ages wait. 
Go, take our shattered hopes, our withered joys. 
Our dead resolves, our broken earthly toys ; 
Take them, and with our sins and follies all. 
Entomb them deep and sure, beyond recall ! 

Farewell! We bless thee for thy golden hours. 
Thy beauteous seasons, thy refreshing showers. 
Thy radiant days, thy peaceful, starry nights. 
Thy mystic voices calling from the heights, 
Thy touch of healing for the heart of pain, 
Thy cups of joy for fevered lips to drain. 
Thy echoes of thy Maker 's voice of love. 
That calls our hearts to brighter worlds above. 

Old Year, farewell! Though thou must pass 

away 
In us thy life transformed abides for aye, 
20 



NEW YEAE POEMS. 21 

In all that Love has wrought, and Patience 

gained, 
And Hope achieved, and Faith by grace at- 
tained. 
So do we take, departing year, from thee, 
With grateful hearts thy priceless legacy — 
The ripened fruits of care, and toil, and pain, 
And hope deferred, — as everlasting gain. 



CHRIST FOR THE NEW YEAR. 

This New Year 's morn, lo, Jesus meeteth thee 
First at the open door, and greeteth thee. 
With His own blessed ' ' Peace be unto thee ! 

Fear not to tread the future 's unknown waj^s ! 
Gird up thy loins! Lift up thy heart with 

praise ! 
For lo, I will be with thee all the days ! ' ' 

It is enough His cheering word to hear ; 
Whatever may betide, thou needst not fear 
With Him to tread the pathway of the year. 

All paths are safe where He doth lead the 

way; 
All places bethels are where He doth stay ; 
All darkness dies where He is Light of day. 



22 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED AND ONE. 

Come in ! Come in ! festal year 
With eyes of light and voice of cheer. 
Come in ! The Church thy coming waits 
With incense at her temple gates. 
Come, pour into her listening ears 
The story of a hundred years. 

Come, as a Reaper of the land, 
Jehovah 's sickle in thy hand, 
And gather in from all the earth — 
To celebrate a Century's birth — 
From seed of blood and toil and tears. 
The harvests of a hundred years. 

Come, as a Sower sent from God, 
To plough the hard and trampled sod. 
And sow anew the wide world field 
With seed that in its time shall yield. 
Despite our feeble faith and fears, 
The increase of a hundred years. 

Come, as a Prophet of the day. 
And cheer the brooding night away 
With visions of the better time, 
When all the days shall be sublime, 
And all the dreams of all the seers 
Shall blossom in millennial years. 



NEW YEAR POEMS. 23 

"TILL THE END BE." 
A Refrain for the New Year. 

Go thou thy way till the end be; for thou shalt rest, 
and shalt stand in thy lot, at the end of the days. — Dan. 
12: 13. 

' * Go thou thy way ; ' ' 
Thou hast no time to idly stay, 
For lo, events are rushing on, 
And thy brief day will soon be done. 
Rise up, redeem the flying hours ; 
Stretch upward all thy wakened powers ; 

Gird up thy ransomed soul; 

Press onward to the goal ! 

' ' Go thou thy way. ' ' 
God 's purpose none can break nor stay ; 
He will control the rising storm, 
And all His grand designs perform. 
Leave all the unknown future still 
To His supreme, controlling will. 
He will secure His own, 
And bring them to His throne. 

"Go thou thy way," 
For lo, thy path is plain as day. 
God 's ways for thee are far too high, 
His thoughts too deep for human eye ; 
What He will do is good and right : 



24 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

Walk thou by faith and not by sight ; 
Do but His will alway — 
This is the open way. 

' ' Go thou thy way ; ' ' 
Though others heedless, idly stay, 
And mock the swift descending sun. 
Look to thyself and hasten on. 
Take up the pilgrim 's hopeful song ; 
Leave far behind the laggard throng ; 
Look into Jesus' face. 
And gladly run thy race. 

Go till the end ! 

Go, till at last thy feet shall stand 

In holy triumph in thy lot. 

Where foes and fears and pains are not. 

There with the holy and the blest 

weary pilgrim, thou shalt rest. 
And see thy God fulfil 
The counsels of His will. 



DAY BY DAY— YEAR BY YEAR. 

Bonds of earthly loves are broken. 

Day by day, year by year ; 
Last sad farewell words are spoken. 
Fond hopes fly and leave no token. 
Day by day, year by year. 



NEW YEAR POEMS. 25 

Blissful dreams have rude awaking, 

Day by day, year by year ; 
Trusting hearts are bleeding, breaking, 
Lives are shattered in the making, 

Day by day, year by year. 

But the light of Hope shines clearer. 

Day by day, year by year ; 
Things unseen grow larger, dearer. 
Our redemption draweth nearer. 

Day by day, year by year. 

So we watch and wait, unfearing, 

Day by day, year by year ; 
Still our drooping spirits cheering 
With the hope of His appearing, ' 

Day by day, year by year ! 



COMFORT FOR THE YEAR. 

All pathways are safe 

Where God leadeth the way; 
All places are peace 

Where His presence doth stay; 
All darkness dies out 

In the light of His face ; 
All losses are gains 

In the wealth of His grace ; 



26 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

All service runs fleet 
In the track of His feet ; 

All labor is rest 

In His fellowship sweet. 

WHAT OF THY YEAR? 

Answer, as the Old Year goes, 
And the fateful records close; 
Hast thou lost thy year, or won it ? 
Hast thou shunned thy work, or done it ' 
Is there curse or blessing on it? 
Hast thou tares, or golden grain? 
Is it gain or toil in vain ? 

"AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD." 

Psalm 90 : 9. 

As in the storied years of old 
A traveler's witching tale was told, 
Where pilgrims on their desert way 
Around the evening camp-fire lay, 
Then in the morning hastened on 
Until another day was done : 

So now the Old Year 's tale is told ; 

The fire is out, the ashes cold ; 

A New Year 's sun brings in the day, 



NEW YEAE POEMS. 27 

And we must rise, up and away, 
Till all the desert toils are past, 
And evening brings us home at last. 

THE WAVES OF TIME. 

The Years of Time, 
Are only broken waves, that roll 
Across the deep and shoreless sea 
Of vast Eternity — wild waves, 
Swept onward by the winds of God, 
That rise and fall, and foam and fly. 
Beneath a dark and stormy sky. 
They sink and swell, these waves of Time, 
As years of human measure end, 
And years begin. 

Oh, how we fly. 
Borne onward by the tossing waves ! 
We may not tarry on the way. 
Nor backward turn. Here is no rest, 
For still the winds of God are high ; 
Beneath us heaves the shoreless sea; 
And on the far horizon line 
The still receding beacons shine. 

We can not tell, and may not know 
How long these winds of God shall blow ; 
But, when the Lord God deemeth best, 



28 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

The sea shall rock itself to rest, 
Nor wind, nor wave of Time shall be 
On all the deep and shoreless sea, 
Eternity ! 



AT THE GATEWAY OF THE YEAR. 

I stand in the gathering twilight, 
Where endeth the path of the year. 

And faintly discern in the shadows. 
An angel of God drawing near. 

Lo, this is my minist'ring spirit, 
To walk with me early and late ; 

One hand claspeth mine, and the other 
The latch of the opening gate. 

I see, as I turn to the portal, 
My path stretching dimly away, 

Till it fadeth in mystical shadows, 
Where falleth the night on the day. 

God, let Thy presence go with me, 
Out into the opening year! 

If not, I pray send me not thither ! 
Without Thee I tremble and fear. 

1 know that Thou veilest the future ; 

The secrets of life are Thine own; 



NEW YEAK POEMS. 29 

And ever the feet of Thy loved ones 
Are treading a pathway unknown. 

But ever Thou walkest beside them, 
And ever Thy hand doth uphold, 

And ever Thy wings overshadow, 
And ever Thy love doth enfold. 

So still let Thy presence go with me. 
And ministering spirits attend. 

Until in life 's fullest fruition 
The years of my pilgrimage end. 

FAREWELL, OLD YEAR! 

Farewell ! 
Dear old year, farewell! 
Thou hast filled thy little span 
In Jehovah's changeless plan: 

Thou hast found thy home sublime 

In the palace halls of Time. 
Swiftly thou hast borne us nearer 

To the spirit's destined goal, 
Where the path of life is clearer, 
And the thought of Jesus dearer 

To the eager toiling soul. 

Thou hast hurried us along, 
With the heedless, busy throng. 



30 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

Through this heritage of woe, 

Like an arrow from the bow, 
Through the tumult and the madness 

Of the stormy field of strife ! 
'er the sunny sea of gladness ; 
Through the twilight vale of sadness. 

Nearer to the bounds of life. 

Thou hast left us love's employ, 
With its wealth of peace and joy. 

And the richer, greater gain 

Of the discipline of pain. 
Thou hast brought us precious treasure, 

From the dark and sunny hours; 
Thou hast filled thy little measure 
Of the blended pain and pleasure 

Of these fleeting lives of ours. 
Dear old j^ear, farewell! 
Farewell ! 



CHEER FOR THE NEW YEAR. 

Gird thy loins ! Uplift thy head ! 
Let thy dead year bury its dead! 
See thy goal, the waiting prize, 
Just beyond the present lies ! 

Go thy way until the end. 

Thou shalt rest at last and stand. 



NEW YEAR POEMS. 31 

With the ransomed in thy lot, 
Where the woes of life are not. 



Lift thy head with hope and cheer ! 
Banish sadness, doubt and fear ! 
Soon shall Christ the Lord appear, 
With the glad Millennial Year ! 



EIGHTEEN HUNDRED NINETY-FIVE. 

Old Year, Farewell ! 
The bells ring out thy kneU ! 
Alas, that thou must go. 
While still we love thee so ! 

Farewell, Old Year! 
We falin would hold thee here, 
And would not let thee go. 
Could we but keep thee so. 

year of love and grace. 
Uplift thy kindly face ; 
Smile on us once again ! 
Soothe thou the parting pain. 
And bless us ere thou go. 
For oh, we love thee so ! 



32 NEW YEAR POEMS. 

A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 

Together we stand where a year, 
New-born, on the earth doth appear; 
And voices of greeting we hear, 
Like music, reechoing clear : 
* ' I wish you a happy New Year ! ' ' 
The echoes take up the refrain, 
Prolonging the lingering strain, 
Till lost on the listening ear : 
' ' I wish you a happy New Year ! 
* ' A happy New Year ! 
"Happy Year! 
"New Year! 
"Year!" 

NEW YEAR'S GREETING. 

' ' Sweet peace be to this house I ' ' 
Be this the Master's message of good cheer, 
Sent with the greetings of the glad New Year, 

' ' Peace, peace be to this house ! ' ' 

' ' My peace I give to you ! ' ' 
Hark ! 'tis the dear Lord 's voice so sweet and 

low. 
Just as He spoke the words long years ago : 

"My peace I leave with you!" 



NEW YEAR POEMS. 33 

So may His presence go 
With those we love and those for whom we pray ; 
That all their years and all their pilgrim way 

With His own light may glow. 



FROM OLD TO NEW. 

Speak unto men; say unto them, 

God 's way from" old-year, old-life sadness, 
Out into new-year, new-life gladness, 

Is by the way of Bethlehem. 



Early Poems, 18594876 



AT NIGHT. 



How I seem so lost and so lone, 
As I list to the ticking of time. 

As the clock that looks down from the wall, 
Speaks the ticking, tick, ticking of time. 

Oh, it seems so, as if now before me 
Stood Time, the old greybeard, alone ; 

With a voice deep and low, sadly speaking 
Of hopes that are withered and gone ! 

He seems with his stretched bony finger, 
To point to the land of Beyond, 

And say as his white locks are waving, 
Soon, soon, I shall rest me beyond ! 

THE GRAVEYARD ON THE HILL. 

Here the long neglected dead, 
In the prime of manhood fled, 

Lowly sleeps. 
In the sunbeam 's golden light 
34 



EAELY POEMS, 18591876. 35 

Gleams the marble, ghastly white, 
Standing still, and stern, and lonely, 

Where it keeps 
Friendly watch beside the grave. 
Here the trees in gladness wave; 
And the green, enameled vine ; 
And the creeping ivy, twine 
O 'er the lowly, sunken mound. 
Where the slumberer in the ground, 

Holders low. 
How the loneliness and stillness. 
And the heart o 'er-creeping stillness, 
Steal in sadness o 'er the soul. 
While the heart-beats' muffled toll 
Tunes the soul to musing dreams. 
And the flame of memory gleams 
O'er the years forever vanished. 
And the hopes forever banished 
From the future's vista dim, 
Where the memory-gleanings limn. 

Scenes of yore. 
Slumber on, ye who have fled 
To the mansions of the dead. 

In your prime. 
Ye may molder low and long, 
Those unnumbered dead among. 

In your clime. 
Till the trumpet's ringing tone 
Rouses up the sleepers lone 



36 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

In their dim and narrow homes 
'Neath the sod. 



THE FRIEND FOR ME. 

When you find a faithful friend, 
Keep him, trust him to the end, 
For the world contains but few. 
Steady, honest, firm and true. 
Some are only friends by name, 
With affections cold and tame,— 
Such ones I would gladly flee — ■ 
They are not the friends for me. 
Some return your love, and seem 
Joyous as a sunlit stream. 
Clinging to you when in health. 
Blest with happiness and wealthy 
But when sorrows come and pains, 
And your wealth no more remains, 
Then their love and friendship flee,- 
Such are not the friends for me. 

Give for me a trusty friend. 
Standing by me to the end. 
One whose hand may never tire. 
One to guide and lead me higher, 
One with loving, tender mind, 
Leaving selfishness behind, 
One to stand the closer by me 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 37 

When the world-temptations try me : 
Such an one I long to see, 
That's the trusty friend for me. 
Give me one who knows no guile, 
One with steady, cheering smile, 
One whom I can trust for ever. 
One who will betray me never. 
One my secret thoughts to tell, 
One whose heart can keep them well. 
One whose love is strong and steady, 
One whose heart for me is ready, 
Waiting but my friend to be — 
Oh, but that's the friend for me ! 

A WORD. 

How strangely the web of our destiny weaves. 
In the threads so enduring around us ; 

A word, from the fadeless impressions it leaves, 
With sorrow or joy may surround us. 

A glance of the eye, a sigh from the heart, 
A hand warmly press 'd at the greeting, 

May make such impressions as never depart, 
Though seeming so trifling and fleeting. 

A word, righth^ uttered, though heedless it seem, 

And almost unconsciously spoken. 
May brood on the soul like a beautiful dream. 

And comfort a heart nearly broken. 



38 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

It may from the shackles of vice disengage 
The heart of the reckless and daring ; 

And cheer those who nobly in virtue engage, 
Their souls for yon heaven preparing. 

It may the whole course of life turn aside ; 

May open new scenes to the vision ; 
And guide a young heart o'er the world-desert 
wide, 

To the goal of a lofty ambition. 



LINES WRITTEN ON CHRISTMAS MORN. 

The star-eyes are closed as they weep for the 

night. 
And the tremulous moonbeams are ready for 

flight; 
The shadows of twilight are hurrj^ng by; 
The blush of the dawn is enkindling the sky ; 
The Orient hill-tops are catching the glow. 
And shine like a gem in a setting of snow. — 

Methinks, as I sit in a reverie here. 
That convoys of beautiful angels appear, 
To fling the wide gates of the heavens ajar. 
And hurry the monarch of day from afar. 
And now I behold him, in roj-al attire. 
With flame-flashing steeds, in a chariot of fire. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 39 

On mountain-brows hoary his beacon-light shines, 
Deep down in the gloom of the cavernous mines, 
And out over prairie and valley and plain, 
O'er the wide-spreading, beautiful, terrible 

main, 
Rolls the deluge of sunlight, like billows of fire. 
While the Day-king is mounting still higher 

and higher. 
And so has the beautiful Christmas-day come, 
While earth lay asleep and all nature was dumb. 
All hail to the happy, the soul-cheering day. 
Whose memories outreach the sad years of de- 
cay! 
Far down the long vista of ages agone, 
Among the dim centuries, hoary and lone, 
The Star of Redemption, in glory and light. 
Arose on the gloom of the world's weary night. 
On Juda's green hills, on the star-lighted slope, 
An angel-hand kindled the beacon of Hope, 
And the sin-blasted Earth felt a thrill of delight. 
As the raptures of Hope stole along through the 

light. 
From the kindling horizon of Prophecy's day 
The storm-freighted darkness rolled wildly away. 
And dark-mantled Mystery blazed into flame, 
For Jesus, the Promised, the Morning-Star came. 
And now, as we gaze o'er the shadowy j^ears, 
A long line of light through the darkness ap- 
pears, 



40 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

A pathway of glory that widens away, 
From Bethlehem 's stall, to the gates of To-day. 
That pathway meanders by Galilee 's wave ; 
By Tabor 's lone steep, and by Lazarus 's grave ; 
Through the calm of Gethsemane ; over the head 
Of rocky Golgotha, where Innocence bled; 
Through ages of darkness ; through battle 's tur- 
moil. 
And red Revolutions and Martyrdom 's toil : 
And so it shall widen and brighten, till Time 
Shall hail the Millennial era sublime. 

Go on, mighty Saviour, Thou conquering King ! 
Till the hosts of the Nations Thy praises shall 

sing: 
Oh, scatter the last of the cohorts of sin, 
And hurry the royal Millennium in! 



On the second day of January, 1867, when the light 
of the newborn year had flashed and faded on the eyes 
of my dear sister Lena, her soul left the body, in which 
it had dwelt twenty-four years, leaving for our consola- 
tion this dying testimony: 

"AIL IS WELL." 

' ' All is well ; ' ' my work is ending ; 
Faith and sight are dimly blending ; 
Light is streaming from afar, 
Hope has lit her beacon star. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 41 

Earth, thy fragile ties are breaking; 
Grander scenes my soul are waking : 

Death, ring out thy solemn knell ! 

In this death-land "all is well." 

'All is well:" Spirit, rally ! 
Now the shadows of the valley 

And the dew-damps of the dead 

Fall upon my bending head ; 
Yet my Saviour's arms enfold me, 
And His rod and staff uphold me : — 

Death, ring out thy throbbing knell — 

In the valley ' ' all is well. ' ' 

' All is well ; ' ' my flesh is failing. 
Human help is unavailing ! 

Let this temple fall to dust, 

Let the earth embrace her trust. 
Till the trumpet's ringing thunder 
Rends the rocks and hills asunder. 

And unveils the sullen gloom 

Of the silent, guilt}^ tomb ; 
Then from out this earthly mortal 
Shall my body spring immortal ! 

Death, ring out thy taunting knell ! 

With my body ' ' all is well. ' ' 

' All is well : ' ' my soul is leaping 
From this pris'ning temple's keeping. 
Plumed for its returnless flight. 



42 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

Far beyond the bounds of night, 
Pain and sorrow, grief and sighing, 
Death and Hell and Sin outflying ! 

O thou Monster, sound the knell ! 

"With my spirit ' ' all is well. ' ' 

* ' All is well ; ' ' the spell is broken — 

Jesus, I accept the token ! 

Faith is lost in dazzling sight, 
Hope has quenched her beacon light 

In Fruition's boundless ocean; 

And the fading world 's commotion, 
Breaking on the distant shore, 
Reaches here my soul no more. 

Hail! Redeemer, fair and glorious, 

Through Thy blood I stand victorious ! 
Hail, ye ransomed ! Earth, farewell ! 
Safe with Jesus, ' ' all is well ! ' ' 



"RABBONI." 

John 20: 16, 17. 

''Mary!" 
The voice was passing sweet, and in its tone 
There lingered something like remembered 

strains 
Of sad and solemn music. To the soul 
Of weeping, troubled Mary, came the voice 
Like friendly fingers searching for the chords 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 43 

That oft had thrill 'd familiar to the touch. 
A wave of glad emotion rose, and swept 
The new-born rapture of her dazzled soul 
All into one sweet word of holy joy — 
Rabboni ! ' ' What more could the glad heart 

say? 
They stood unveiled, the Saviour and the 

saved, 
Heart touching heart, and in the contact faith 
Flash 'd out in brightness, and the shades of 

doubt. 
That hovered o'er perplexing thought, and 

hung 
So darkly round conjecture, fled away. 
And Mary knew her risen Saviour — God ! 
But she would touch Him yet — so prone are 

we 
To lean on sense where faith has solid 

ground — 
A sudden impulse moved the eager hands 
Outstretching to the Lord; but Mary's faith 
Had never need of doubting Thomas' test, 
And Christ would have it stand unmarred, 

alone ; 
No, Mary, touch me not!'' And forth she went 
With bounding heart and flying feet, to tell 
To other hearts, that lay all stunned with woe, 
And wrapt in wild bewilderment and gloom, 
The strange, glad story of her risen Lord. 



44 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

And still to-day, with burning heart and word. 
Exultant Marys, faithful witnesses, 
Attest the old-time story : " I have seen 
The risen Jesus. ' ' 

Art thou too of those 
Who groped their way through blinding tears 

and grief 
To seek a Saviour ? Has a gentle voice 
Dropped like a benediction on thy soul. 
And dost thou know ' ' Rabboni ' ' as thine own ? 
And hast thou borne to other burdened souls 
The wondrous revelation of a Lamb 
Slain from the world's foundation, and alive 
To-day, exalted to dispense His gifts — 
Repentance unto men, life to the dead. 
Forgiveness to the vile, a home of rest 
Wide open for a weary, toiling world? 
Oh hast thou seen my Saviour in His love. 
And of His resurrection felt the power, 
And can thy lips be dumb, while other eyes 
Are blind with tears, and deadly stupor hangs 
On other hearts, and deep, unmeasured woe 
Rolls on to meet whom only Christ can save ? 
Go ! Speak ! Be faithful witness for thy Lord 
Till thou shalt see Him as He is, and know 
As thou art known. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 45 

1776— THE VOICE OF SEVENTY-SIX— 1876. 

Once upon a time a little poem was born and placed 
in the Almanac of the Evangelical Association for 1876. 
An almanac is generally considered a secure prison for 
poetry, but this restless "Voice of Seventy-Six," some- 
how broke prison, or was abducted, and fell into the 
sea of newspaperdom. Whither it drifted — where it 
struck and where it stuck — where and by whom it was 
hailed — of course these are secrets which it will not dis- 
close. But to-day it came into our editorial port — like 
a wandering prodigal to its home — picked up by the 
United Presbyterian, from the hands of the Massachu- 
setts Floughman, having lost its birthright and pedigree. 
We receive and restore it whole — for now the centennial 
exhibition is open, and the commissioners do not want it, 
anyhow ! 

I. 

I come ! I come ! a festal year. 
With eyes of light and voice of cheer. 
I come ! a grateful nation waits, 
With incense at her temple gates ; 
I pour into her list'ning ears 
The greetings of a hundred years. 

II. 

I come, a Reaper of the land, 
Columbia's sickle in my hand. 
And gather in, from far and near, 
With ringing song and bounding cheer. 
From seed of blood and toil and tears. 
The harvest of a hundred years. 



46 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

III. 

I come, a Sower sent from God, 
To plough the hard and trampled sod. 
And sow in all the fields of earth. 
The seeds of Freedom 's second birth. 
Enfolding with their hopes and fears, 
The longings of a hundred years. 

IV. 

I come, a Prophet of the day ; 
The night shall fail and pass away. 
The looming years are all sublime, 
With visions of a better time ; 
And soft millennial light appears — 
The sunshine of a hundred years. 

GO, MY SON! 

If it be true that man moulds his own destiny, what a 
solemn and momentous hour is that, when the son passes 
out from under the parental roof, to shape his destiny 
for weal or woe! Fathers! from out whose homes a 
son is going, you can breathe an amen to these lines. 

I. 

Go, my son ! the world 's before you ! 
Heaven will smile approval o'er you ; 
Prayers and blessings from j^our home 
Follow wheresoe'er you roam; 
Life, with all its busy toil. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 47 

Calls you to the world's turmoil. 
With the cross upon your shoulder, 
Let the strife but make you bolder 
As you press the upward way. 

II. 

Go, m}^ son, where duty calls you. 
Fearless still, whate'er befalls you: 
Oh ! be manly, brave and true. 
Cling to Right and dare to do : 
Weakness often conquers Might — 
Dare to suffer for the Right. 

III. 

Go, my son, awake from dreaming! 
See ! the star of Hope is beaming 
In the future 's dimming years. 
And a beck 'ning hand appears 
That shall guide your feet aright, 
On a pathway clear and bright. 

IV. 

Go, my son ; and while you wander 
Clouds and dark temptations under, 
Never dream of base retreat; 
Crush the world beneath your feet; 
Walk by faith and not by sight — 
God will give you needed light. 
4 



48 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

V. 

Go, my son, the days are fleeting ; 
Life is but a hasty greeting, 
And a whispered, sad farewell. 
Then we hear the dying knell ! 
Work to-day — in God 's design 
No to-morrow may be thine. 

VI. 

Go, my son, the world 's before you ; 
Fear no foe if God be for you : 
On your Saviour's arm rely. 
For His honor dare to die ! 
Keep the Christian armor on 
Till the crown of life is won. 
With the cross upon your shoulder, 
Let the strife but make you bolder 
As you press the upward way. 

MUSINGS ON CHILDHOOD. 

So green, 

Bright and green, 

On the long-passed shore. 

Bloom the memories, sweet and rare. 

Nursed by dews and golden gleam and beam 

Of the passing years, and there 

Bloom they evermore. 

Oh so green, 

So green ! 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 49 

No thorn, 

Oh, no thorn 

Lurked among those flowers ; 

For the Eden zephyrs blew. 

And sweet angel voices whispered low, 

When they budded, blew and grew. 

Oh those hallowed bowers 

Had no thorn. 

No thorn ! 

Warm tears, 

Soul-wrung tears, 

Flood the misty eyes 

As the Present stands alone, 

Limned by watchfires of the Long Ago : 

Then the Future slept unknown, — 

Then is now, and flies — 

Oh those years 

Those years ! 

Old age, 

White-haired age 

Seems to turn again 

To the foot-path of the years 

That have led from Childhood's lovely dreams, 

And the life-strung hopes and fears 

Melt to mist again, 

In old age. 

Old age. 



50 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

How cold, 

Bleak and cold, 

Seems the sloping shore, 

Where the aged pilgrim stands. 

As the visions rise in sunny gleams 

O 'er the year-gulfs joining hands, 

Linking shore to shore, — 

Young and old — 

With gold. 



JERUSALEM. 

Jerusalem, 

The royal diadem 

Is fallen from thy queenly brow ; 

Discrown 'd, forsaken, widow 'd now, 

Who would not drop a tear for thee ? 

When thou wert free. 

And beautiful and strong, 

Thy children came with ringing song, 

And glory, honor, might were thine. 

But now thy sons in exile pine. 

Thy weeping daughters, where are they 

In this, thine evil day ? 

The clouds of doom. 

That slowly gather 'd gloom. 

And round thy hills in menace hung. 

For many a day their shadows flung 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 51 

Across thy stately palace halls 

And temple walls. 

By prophet lips thy warnings came ; 

They flashed from tongues of living flame; 

Long years of patient, boundless love 

The vengeful sword lay sheathed above. 

While martyr-blood cried up to God 

From altar, street, and trampled sod; 

And yet another warning fell 

From lips that spoke the awful knell 

Of Death and Hell. 

That touching scene who can forget, 
When on the slopes of Olivet 
The patient Saviour wept for thee 
Because thou would 'st not flee, 
Nor hide thee from the coming woes 
Whose gathering horrors rose 
In awful vision, dark and dread, 
Around thy head. 

Thy day of mercy came. 

And ended in devouring flame, 

God's pent-up, fiery wrath 

Swept fiercely down the open path 

That prophecy had trodden long, 

Through years of suffered wrong. 

And now upon thy blasted hills. 

Thy mournful tale the world-heart thrills ; 



52 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

Thy every riven stone appears 
A witness of the hoary years, 
To summon ages to thy feet, 
And swear beside thy mountain seat ; 
' ' Jehovah 's word shall never fail ! ' ' 



"LORD, SAVE ME." 

Mat. 14: 30. 

I. 

The atmosphere is cold and chill ; 
My way, dear Master, climbs the hill, 
More steep and rough and rugged still. 
I pant and toil and struggle on, 
But oh, how shall I longer run — 
Lord, save me, " or I am undone. 

II. 

The path grows dark beneath my feet, 
I dread advance, I fear retreat — 
Oh send a light my steps to meet ! 
The dazzling mountain summits fade, 
The beacon lights are lost in shade — 
Lord, guide me," I am sore afraid. 

III. 

Up from the dim horizon walls 
The sullen thunder Spirit calls. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 53 

And darkness on the heavens falls. 
Upon my head the storm-clouds lower ; 
The wrathful tempest gathers power — 
' ' Lord, save me, ' ' in this fearful hour. 

IV. 

The hills are crossed — I stand below — 
Close by my feet, deep, dark, and slow, 
The waters of the Jordan flow. 
I hasten on at Fate 's command : 
I walk upon the shifting sand — 
* ' Lord, save me ! " Take my trembling hand. 

V. 

Saved ! and forever saved, I stand. 
Exulting on the shining strand ; 
At home in peaceful Eden Land. 
I shall go out no more for aye ; 
But with my dear Redeemer stay, 
While years eternal glide away. 

GENNESARET. 

I hear the notes of jubilee. 
That murmur o 'er thy sunny sea, 
O long-expected Galilee. 

Thy waves are jubilant with song. 
And dance the pebbly beach along. 
To greet the Saviour promised long. 



54 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

The jfisher-boats upon thy breast 
Shall often bear thy royal Guest, 
And give the wearied God-man rest. 

In vain the angry sky may frown. 
And send her swooping tempests down ; 
The ship He treads no sea can drown. 

He speaks : ' ' Gennesaret be still ! ' ' 
And wind and shrinking wave fulfill, 
The mandate of that sovereign will. 

Now sing again thy jubilee. 

Long silent, orphaned Galilee, 

For all the world shall soon be free. 

The voice that spoke thy waves to peace. 
Bids passion's raging tempest cease, 
And brings to better 'd souls release. 

It thrills the world 's great heart to-day — 
Hell hears the sound with deep dismay, 
And nations bend with awe to pray. 

The feet, beneath whose royal tread 
Thy cowering billows sank with dread, 
Are walking o'er the buried dead. 

We hear no sound, nor see them go, 
But hoary wrongs are trampled low. 
And tyrants fear some coming woe. 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 55 

The Conqueror 's march is onward still, 
And, while the years their measure fill. 
The world is bending to His will. 



REMINISCENCES. 

I stood in the mellowing twilight 

That curtains the morning of years, 

When childhood departs into shadow, 
And youth in the sunlight appears. 

I gazed on the marching battalions 
Of joy-sandal'd, beautiful days, 

Departing with echoless footstep, 
And sweetly repeating their lays. 

A saddened and sober-like feeling 
Came silently creeping me o'er, 

For I knew that these days of my childhood 
Should visit my heart never more. 

But, oh ! how the buoyant young spirit, 

So fresh, so elastic, so strong, 
'erleaps the bright years with a gladness 

That plumes it with pinions of song. 

So faded the days into dimness — 
My beautiful childhood was gone. 



56 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

And out on the slope of the valley 
I stood like a wand'rer alone. 

Afar in the mazes of distance 

The shadows dispelled to my view, 

Revealing a sun-lighted summit 
That pierced the ethereal blue ; 

And deep in the opening vista, 
Outstretching in gorgeous array, 

Lay rivers of glittering jasper, 
Reflecting the splendors of day; 

And pathways of orient beauty 

Wound on through the blendings of light. 
Through valleys of blossoming roses, 

And lilies in raiment of white. 

I gazed on the bright panorama, 
Entranced by the beauty of life, 

For ah ! from my vision were hidden 
The combat, the foemen, the strife. 

Then out from the chambers of being 
Leaped Thought on her pinions of flame, 

And bright aspirations came surging 
Like reckless pursuers of fame. 

The song-bird of Hope on the breezes 
Flung out a triumphal refrain, 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 57 

And hill-tops redoubled the echoes, 
And valleys repeated the strain. 

So passes the child from the quiet 

That mantles the earlier years, 
And dreams in the beautiful valleys 

Till Youth in the past disappears ; 

Then plunges with reckless abandon 

O'er simple and innocent joys, 
Deep down into revels of manhood. 

Where Sorrow has sifted alloys. 

Ah ! few in the sober-hued Autumn 
Can gather their harvest of sheaves; 

And close on the borders of Winter 
They reap only summer-seared leaves! 



TILL THE END. 

Dan. 12: 13. 

"Go thou thy way!" 
This is no time to stay : 
The years are rushing on ; 
Thy fleeting days will soon be done. 
Stretch upward all thy powers. 
And swiftly, with the golden hours, 
Press onward to the goal, 
That waits thy ransomed soul. 



58 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

"Go thou thy way!" 
God 's purpose none can stay : 
He guides the rising storm : 
His grand designs He will perform. 
Leave all the future still 
To His supreme, controlling will. 
He will secure His own. 
And bring them to His throne. 

"Go thou thy way!" 
Thy path is plain as day ; 
God's ways are far too high, 
His thoughts too deep for human eye; 
What He will do is right ; 
Walk thou by faith and not by sight ; 
Do thou His will alway — 
This is thy open way. 

' ' Go thou thy way ! ' ' 
If others idly stay, 
And mock the sinking sun, 
Look to thyself and hasten on. 
Forsake the laggard throng; 
Take up the pilgrim's hopeful song; 
Look up to Jesus' face 
And gladly run thy race. 

Go till the end ! 
At last thy feet shall stand 
In triumph in thy lot, 



EARLY POEMS, 18591876. 59 

Where foes and fears and pains are not; 
There, pilgrim, thou shalt rest. 
With all the holy and the blest, 
And see thy God fulfill 
His wise and holy will. 



HOPE ON! 

Sea! 
Restless sea, 
Pulsing, throbbing sea. 
Storm-lashed, breeze-fanned, billowy sea, — 
Roaring, raving, gloom-veiled, sunlit, placid, 
Treacherous sea! 

Thou emblem of the nations. 
Like thee, restless sea. 
The nations heave and mingle with the roar 
Of stormy passions, or the tidal swell 
Of surging Liberty. 
The heralds of the midnight hurticane 
And furious tempest, come in solemn moans. 
And silent omens of a strange unrest: 
So o 'er the billowy Nations comes a wail, — 
Sad, mournful, trembling, from the long op- 
pressed — 
It is the herald of the vengeful storm, 
Whose muttering thunders to the wise proclaim 
The fate of hoar oppression. 
Ere many years 



60 EARLY POEMS, 1859-1876. 

Shall swell the long millennials of the past, 

The storm of Universal Liberty, 

With righteous fury wing'd and strong, shall 

break, 
And sweep the hell of thralldom from the world ! 
Our own dear land, so long with fetters curs 'd. 
Now feels the smitings of the Vengeance Rod, 
And in her throes of pain she sees the hand 
That wields the rod, with rigid sternness point 
A warning finger to the Slave. 
The boom of guns, the crash of reddened steel, 
And freedom's battle-cry, have reached his ear. 
And in his sluggish brain and tropic blood 
The living fires of startled consciousness 
Are starting into flame. 

Hope's star has burst from Freedom's galaxy. 
And, throned upon the freeman 's flag, is borne 
By strong deliverers in the battle's van. 
The slave looks up — he sees that beaming star ! 
Long years of wrong with grating harshness roll 
Across his fiery soul — he sees his foe, 
And sweet deliverance trembling in the scale — 
His dusky fingers grasp th' avenging gun. 
And o'er the waves of conflict, red with blood. 
The Afric bondman rides to Liberty! 



Poems on Love and 
Friendship 



TWAIN MADE ONE. 

Behold, two streams from fountains far apart, 
Like prayers from out the deep wells of the 

heart, 
Spring forth into the sunshine of the day. 
And each pursues its own lone, winding way. 

Through changing seasons of the passing years, 
Mid lights and shades, like mingling hopes and 

fears. 
Now swift and strong, and now serene and still, 
The streams flow on, each at its own sweet will. 

Yet not, perchance, ' ' each at its own sweet will, ' ' 
For He who sets the bounds of good and ill. 
With hand unseen directs their onward flow. 
Where He would have their rippling waters go. 

Behold, the streams have found their winding 
way, 

61 



62 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

Like lovers out of forest wilds astray, 

Out into one sweet vale that narrower grows, 

As on and on each stream exultant flows. 

Adown that narrowing vale, whose bosom thrills. 
Clasped in the warm embraces of the hills. 
As in a Paradise of rapturous dreams, 
What can they do, those lonely, wooing streams? 

They can but sing and woo and onward go. 
Till, swooning in a blissful overflow. 
They twain, commingling sweetly as they go. 
Henceforth for aye as one together flow. 

THE SWEET OLD STORY OF LOVE— THE 
GOLDEN WEDDING BELLS. 

Dedicated to all our readers for whom the golden wed- 
ding bells have rung their happy chimes in days gone by. 

Ring, ring, with joy the golden wedding bells. 
As Father Time the sweet old story tells 
Of Love 's young dream of fifty years agone. 
When two true hearts in wedlock found their 
own. 

True hearts whom God had joined together here. 
No man could put asunder in their sphere, 
As, hand in hand, true husband, faithful wife. 
Full fiftv vears walked in the wav of life. 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 63 

Just fifty years beyond the wedding vow, 
' ' The Golden Age is not a fable now, ' ' 
While 'er the hopes and fears of future years 
Undimmed God 's bow of promise still appears. 

So days and j-ears may come and years may go. 
And feet may walk with halting step and slow. 
Still shall the love-united hearts be one, 
Until the walk and work of life is done. 

How far beyond the golden wedding day 
The winding pilgrim path may stretch away 
We need not, can not know, and none can tell, 
God only knows how far, and it is well. 

This do we know, that He who led the way. 
Up to the happy golden wedding day. 
Will still lead on, till all life 's days are past. 
And bring the faithful pilgrims home at last, 
While sweet, familiar voices welcome sing. 
And all the golden bells of heaven ring. 



FIFTY YEARS. 

God bless thee, dear friend ! Why, they say 
Thou art fifty to-day ! 
Halfway up the century height, 
In meridian light ; 
5 



64 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

Midway 'twixt the summit of snow 
And the valley below. 

I greet thee with hearty good cheer 

In thy jubilee year ! 

I pray that thy Heavenly Guide 

May with thee abide, 

And bring thee at last to the goal, 

A victorious soul ! 



LOVE THAT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE. 

"And to know the love of Christ which passeth 
knowledge. ' ' 

I have sought thee long and vainly, 

By the wisdom of the wise, 
In the world of human knowledge, 

With my passion-blinded eyes. 

I have sought to know Thy glory, 
All Thy wisdom to explore. 

And I seemed a wingless atom. 
On a boundless ocean shore. 

I have sought to scale the summit. 
And to sound the mighty deep, 

Of the love that passeth knowledge, 
In its wide, eternal sweep. 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 65 

Lord, my God, I cannot know it ; 

'Tis too wonderful for me ; 
Far beyond my grasp and measure 

Rolls it like a shoreless sea. 

Let me humbly seek and find Thee, 

With my craving human love ; 
I beseech Thee, show Thy glory, 

As it shines for those above. 

Nearer, nearer! I behold Thee! 

Faith is clear where sense is blind : 
Nearer, dearer, I approach Thee, 

And the heart outstrips the mind. 

Thou altogether lovely, 
Fairer than the mellow moon. 

Rising on my spirit's twilight, 
Like the sun of golden noon. 

Now I know Thee, for I love Thee ! 
Ah ! Thy sacred name is Love ! 

1 can know Thy love in loving, 
Like Thy holy ones above. 

Love reveals and love proclaims thee, 

Love receives and understands. 
And a holy compact binds us 

In a love that never ends. 



66 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

Oh the fullness, all the fullness, 

All the fullness of Thy love ! 
This is love that passeth knowledge, 

Boundless, endless, blissful love! 

OUH FAITHFUL FRIENDS. 

A Poem by Rev. H. B. Hartzler, Who Is Well 
Known in Cleveland. 

Mr. E. E. Whitney has sent the following poem to the 
Cleveland (Ohio) Leader. It Avas written by Eev. H. B. 
Hartzler, of whona Mr. Whitney says: 

* ' Nearly everyone who knew Eev. H. B. Hartzler when 
he was in Cleveland loved him and was loth to part with 
him. He was a great preacher, a fearless editor, and a 
grand citizen. I wrote him a few days ago, and he sent 
me a little poem, which I know most of his friends will 
love to read, as it expresses his feelings towards his many 
Cleveland friends." 

The poem is entitled "Our Faithful Friends" and is 
as follows : 

Hast thou friends, true, faithful friends? 
Friends that hold thy faltering hands ? 
Friends that in thy gathering woe 
Bide with thee, while others go? 

Hast thou friends of kindred mind, 
Gracious, generous, lo\'ing, kind? 
Friends for smiles, and friends for tears, 
Changeless through the changing years. 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 67 

Hast thou friends with hearts of cheer, 
Warm and bright when trouble 's near ? 
Friends that glow like steadfast lights 
Through the darkest, dreariest nights? 

Hast thou friends who think of thee. 
As they wait on bended knee. 
And thy wants and wishes share, 
In the holy hush of prayer ? 

Hast thou friends to speak for thee. 
When thy voice shall silent be — 
Faithful still when thou art gone, 
In the love thy heart has known? 

God be praised for faithful friends ! 
Hold them fast with hearts and hands ! 
Gifts are they of God's own love. 
Types of our best Friend above. 

ON LIFE'S BROAD PLATEAU. 

To one entering the tweuty-fiftli birthday. 

Jean Ingelow, that singer sweet, 
Sings of a birthdaj' that arose 
" With much of hope, with meaning rife — 
A thoughtful day from dawn to close." 

Another singer, looking back. 

With voice athrob with unshed tears. 



68 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

Tells how "each time the day comes round, 
Less and less white its mark appears." 

And one wails sadly who has learned 
That all things are not what they seem : 
" Each birthday anniversary 

Is the dispelling of a dream." 

Now, dear one, as thy birthday dawns, 

God make it like Jean Ingelows ! 
A day of hope, "with meaning rife — 

A thoughtful day from dawn to close. ' ' 

It may be, yea, it needs must be. 
That each recurring birthday thou 

Shalt find some youthful dreams dispelled. 
Some blossoms dead on broken bough ! 

So hath it been, so must it be. 

In these poor, broken lives of ours. 

That so our hearts may early learn 
Dependence on the Heavenly Powers. 

From fading dreams and dying hopes 
God beckons on to higher things, 

And bids us rise to clearer skies 

On faith's triiimphant, tireless wings. 

These birthday stations on the road — 
How soon we pass them, one by one ! 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 69 

How swift the march ! How short the way ! 
How soon life 's little dream is done ! 

Now, on this fair, sweet birthdaj^ morn, 
As through a gateway wide and high, 

Behold the fields oustretched afar, 
Where life 's ungarnered harvests lie ! 

Lift up thy head ! Engird thy loins ! 

Thy feet have reached life 's broad plateau ! 
Press forward now ! Press toward the mark ! 

And backward wave thy last adieu ! 

TO A FRIEND. 

On receiving the portrait of an aged friend who had gone 
to his long home. 

thou my cherished friend, so kind, unselfish, 

true. 
Strong, steadfast, pure, "foursquare to every 

wind that blew," 
Thou helper of my life, companion of my heart, 
E 'en death hath not prevailed to rend our souls 

apart ! 

1 gaze upon the shadow of thy kindly face, 
Alight with noble thought and love's abiding 

grace. 
Thy hoary head a crown of glory, white as snow. 
And call to mind anew why I did love thee so. 



70 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

To me thou art not dead, thou art but gone away 
From sight and sense, gone on ahead a little way. 
Thou art my friend, unchanged, save that by 

grace 
Thou art transfigured in the vision of His face. 

The time will not be long till in the heavenly 

place. 
Beyond earth 's broken lights, we shall be face to 

face, 
When that which is in part shall all be done 

away. 
And we shall know as we are known in that 

great day. 

THE DEAR OLD FRIENDS. 

Bless the Lord for dear, old friends, 
Faithful, true, unchanging friends. 
How the heart, so often grieved. 
In its trusting love deceived, 
Turns again to seek anew 
Olden friendships, tried and true ! 

Bless the Lord for dear, old friends ! 
Clasp again the strong, warm hands ! 
All too soon they pass away ; 
Oh, that we could make them staj^ ! 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 71 

All the world is poorer grown, 
When a dear, old friend is gone! 

Bless the Lord for dear, old friends ! 
We shall clasp again their hands. 
Here, or on the farther shore, 
When the toils of earth are o 'er, 
And beside the radiant throne 
We shall know as we are known. 



THOU KNOWEST WE LOVE THEE. 

Lord, if in our hearts Thou seest 

The love fire burning low, 
We pray Thee do Thou not despise 

The dying ember's glow. 
But on it let Thy pitying breath 

In tender mercy blow. 

Thou knowest how in the choking damps 

We struggle on our way. 
How in the world's chill atmosphere 

We seek some warming ray. 
And fain would keep our hearts aglow 

Through all the hostile day. 

How weak we are Thou knowest full well, 
How poor and frail, and yet 



72 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

Thou knowest, Lord, we love Thee, too, 

Though foes and fears beset, 
And if we should forget, sometimes, 

do not Thou forget ! 



LOVE'S RESPONSE TO LOVE. 

"Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I 
love Thee."— Jno. 21: 17. 

Thou knowest that I love Thee, 
For Thou hast first loved me, 

And Thy great love has drawn me, 
Dear Master, unto Thee. 

Thou knowest that I love Thee, 

And in Thy love find rest : 
'Mid all earth's joys and pleasures 

Thy changeless love is best. 

Thou knowest that I love Thee, 
How much, I dare not tell; 

But all my heart's deep longings. 
Dear Lord, Thou knowest well. 

Thou knowest that I love Thee, 
But I would love Thee more. 

And in Thy love abiding. 
Be Thine forever more. 



LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 73 

"LOVE CALLED, AND BABY CAME." 

Dear little baby ! You have come at last, 
At love's insistent wooing call, at last! 
You've come — a soft, pathetic, helpless thing, 
From God 's great Somewhere, on celestial wing ; 
And, reminiscent, in 3'our wondering eyes, 
There lingers yet the blue of other skies. 

Dear little baby ! Have you come to stay ? 
To live with us, to laugh, to weep, to pray 1 
To sing life's songs, to suffer, to fulfil 
From day to day the Heavenly Father 's will ? 
No matter from what world you came, sweet 

miss, 
With love's pure kiss we welcome you to this. 

ON LOVE'S GALILEE. 

My soul is sailing on the sea. 
Afloat on love's bright Galilee. 
The sky is clear, the wind is fair ; 
Sweet incense fills the summer air; 
And all around me float and throng 
The mingling harmonies of song. 
I seek no port, I sight no shore ; 
I want no help of sail or oar; 
I fear no storm, I dread no wave, 
For here is naught to lose or save. 



74 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 

I want no harbor but the sea — 

The breast of love 's deep Galilee, 

"With Christ, my Master, ever near ; 

So life shall be a golden year, 

And I shall never anchor more. 

On sunlit isle or shadowy shore; 

But on, and on, forever more. 

With Christ, my Master, to explore 

Deep, wide, as vast eternity ! 

The length and breadth, expanding far 

By morning sun and evening star, 

Beyond the blue horizon's rim 

"Where rapturous visions float and swim ! 

Oh, this indeed is life, to be 
"With Jesus on the rolling sea — 
The waves of love's bright Galilee — 
Deep, wide, as vast eternity! 



Children and Childhood 



BUT A LITTLE CHILD. 

I was but a little child, 

By the autumn winds beguiled 

Into dreams. 
But my heart grew wondrous wise, 
As I watched the brooding skies, 

And the golden glorj' beams 
Of the smiling, setting sun. 
Beckoning — ' ' Child, the day is done. 

the dusky brooding sky. 
Where the cloudy banners fly. 
Waving messages to me 
Never heard on land or sea — 
Whispering gallery of my Lord, 
Voicing His unwritten Word ! 

1 was but a simple child. 

By the whispering winds beguiled 
Into dreams. 
But I felt a Presence nigh, 
Greater than the brooding sky, 
75 



76 CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 

Where the sunset glory streams, 
And my soul grew wondrous wise 
There beneath the evening skies. 

"LET'S PRAY RIGHT AWAY." 

Last week the Children's Corner of The Evangelical 
contained the following little incident, from one of our 
contributors : 

A letter came from home, telling of grandpa's severe 
illness. Three-year-old Kenneth, as he heard the letter 
read, sat with a serious expression upon his face. 

"Now Kenneth," said mamma, "we mustn't forget 
to pray for grandpa this evening when we go to bed. ' ' 

' ' Let 's pray right away, mamma, ' ' he said. 

A good lesson for many an older head — do not wait, 
pray right away! 

The words of the boy Kenneth may well serve as a 
text for a homily or a rhyme, and we feel to press the 
text home by repetition and amplification: 

"Pray Right Away," 

Pray right away; 
Wait not till morning lifts her pall, 
Nor wait till evening shadows fall, 
Before thou on thy Father call ; 

Pray right away. 

Pray right away; 
The time of need is now and here; 
Speak now into thy Father's ear. 
Assured that He will gladly hear, 

Pray right away. 



CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 77 

Pray right away, 
For now in heaven 's high dwelling place 
Thy Father waits with smiling face, 
His hands outstretched with love and grace. 

Pray right away. 

Pray right away; 
Let not love linger by the way ; 
Thy heart's first prompting say not nay, 
Nor quench desire with long delay : 

Pray right away. 

Pray right away, 
While yet thy thought is fresh and sweet. 
While love runs on with winged feet, 
Haste quickly to the Mercy Seat ; 

Pray right away. 

CHILDREN'S DAY INVITATION. 

Come in, come in, dear children come in. 
There is room, there is love for you all : 
We will tell you of Jesus and help you along, 
With counsel and prayer and with beautiful 
song. 
While the Master is sounding the call. 

Come in, dear youths, we welcome you in. 
There is room and a work for you, too. 



78 CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 

Come and consecrate all, in the freshness of 

youth, 
To glorify God in the service of truth, 
Whatsoe'er He may give you to do. 

Come in, come in, dear fathers, come in. 

For the Master has work for you here ; 
Let us share in the toils and the blessed reward, 
And honor the Word and the work of the Lord, 
Till the day of His coming appear. 

Come in, come in, dear mothers, come in. 
For the love of your Saviour, come in ! 

There is need of your gentleness, tenderness, 
love, 

To guide the dear lambs to the kingdom above, 
Lest they die in the desert of sin. 

ANNIE, LOOK HEEE! 

A few years ago while I was on my way from New 
Dover, N. J., to some other place, I stopped at an old 
house to ask for some water to drink, for the weather was 
as warm then as it is to-day, here at Carlisle, where I 
am writing these lines. 

The girl, who gave me a cup of fresh, cold water, 
kindly invited me to come into the house and rest awhile. 
I went in, and soon found that the children of the family 
belonged to a Sunday school, and had learned to sing 
the sweet hymns I loved so well. 

The smallest of the children, little Annie, came up to 
me, and told me her name, and sang almost as sweetly 



CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 79 

as a little canary bird I see across the street hopping 
about in its prison-cage. 

"Now, Annie," said I, "if you will sing another 
hymn for me, I '11 write some verses and bring them along 
for you when I pass this Avay again. ' ' 

So Annie sang, ' ' The Gospel Ship Is Sailing, ' ' and 
then I went on my way. But I never came to Annie's 
home after that, and she has grown to be a big girl by 
this time, for it is nearly six years since I saw her; or, 
maybe she has gone to sing with the angels long ago. 

I think I shall never meet Annie again while I live, so 
I give my little hymn to all the Annie's who read the 
S. S. Messenger ; and the rest of the boys and girls may 
take a peep at it too. 

Tell your big brother, who thinks he is very smart and 
knows more than his two grandfathers did before him, — 
tell him he needn 't laugh at these simple lines ; and if he 
does laugh, just tell him, the preacher wants him to write 
better verses for the next paper. 

Wouldn't it be strange if little Annie should get this 
paper and see these verses? 

Well, here they are : 

Verses for Little Annie. 
Please, Annie dear, do not forget 
The '^ Gospel Ship" is sailing yet, 
And taking in and bearing o 'er 
The children to the heavenly shore. 

Our Jesus is the Pilot still, 
He guides through every boding ill, 
And steers the vessel through the foam, 
Till every child is safe at home. 

Is Annie on this ship to-day 
Fast sailing on her glorious way ? 
6 



80 CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 

And does she trust in Jesus still, 
And all His will with joy fulfill ? 

Look up ! lift up your longing eyes : 
The clouds are breaking from the skies ; 
A light celestial onward steals, 
And dim the outlined shore reveals. 

The way will not be long, my dear. 
The land is nigh, you need not fear ; 
And soon, the silvery waves along, 
Will float the joyful welcome song. 

God bless and keep you till we stand 
All saved by Jesus on the strand. 
And then we '11 help to roll along 
The raptures of a sweeter song. 



THE MOTHER'S "GOOD-NIGHT." 

Send the children to bed with a kiss and a smile ; 
Sweet childhood will tarry at best but a while ; 
And soon they will pass from the portals of 

home, 
The wilderness ways of their life-work to roam. 

Yes, tuck them in bed with a gentle "Good- 
night!" 



CHILDREN AND CHILDHOOD. 81 

The mantle of shadows is veiling the light ; 
And maybe — God knows — on this sweet little 

face, 
May fall deeper shadows in life 's weary race. 

Yes, say it: "God bless my dear children, I 

pray ! ' ' 
It may be the last you will say it for aye ! 
The night may be long ere you see them again, 
And motherless children may call you in vain ! 

Drop sweet benedictions on each little head, 
And fold them in prayer as they nestle in bed ; 
A guard of bright angels around them invite, — 
The spirit may slip from the mooring to-night. 



Missions and Missionaries 



SISTEE HEARTS BEYOND THE SEA.^ 

I. 

Hark! o'er the ocean, 

Where the Sunrise Islands lie, 
Through waves' commotion. 

Sounds a mournful cry. 
Hear, oh, hear their crying — 

Sister hearts beyond the sea ! 
Help, oh, help the dying ! 

Help to make them free ! 

Chorus : 
Help them ! oh, help them ! 

Sisters, hear their pleading cry ! 
Save them ! oh, save them ! 

Save them ere they die ! 

II. 

Tell them the story 

Of a Saviour 's dying love ; 



*Written for the Woman 's Missionary Society, Cleve- 
land, O., June 26, 1883, adapted to the music of "Juan- 
ita. ' ' 

82 



MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 83 

Show them the glory 

Of the home above. 
Swift the days are flying, 

And the Master 's work is great ; 
Haste and save the dying, 

Ere it be too late ! 

FORGET NOT OUR MISSIONARIES. 

Ye praj'ing hearts, remember those who stand. 
The lonely vanguard of our mission band, 
On far-off China's dark and bloody land. 

Stretch forth to them your friendly hands of 

prayer. 
Their zeal for China's heathen millions share. 
And give them help their heavy cross to bear. 

Remember, too, our chosen twain who stay. 
Who patient bear the burden of delay, 
And long to hear the call to haste away. 

Theirs is, mayhap, the harder lot, to wait, 
With eager hearts, so near the open gate. 
While Mercy 's fleeting day is growing late ! 

Pray for them all, that each God's time may 

bide. 
Stand still, or forward go, as He shall guide. 
And to the uttermost in Him confide. 



84 MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 

Where'er the Guiding Hand may cast their lot, 

Whate 'er to each or all He may allot, 

O praying hearts at home, forget them not! 



WELCOME HOME! 

Written by Bishop H. B. Hartzler for the "Welcome 
Home Eeception" given to Dr. C. N. Dubs and wife and 
their son Homer, returned missionaries from China, by 
the Harris Street United Evangelical Church, August 12, 
1907. 

(Words adapted for Welcome Song from "Speed 
Away.") 



Welcome home, welcome home, from your mis- 
sion of light, 

From a land that is lying in darkness and night ; 

At the Master's command ye went forth in His 
name, 

With your lives in your hands, His good word to 
proclaim ; 
And to dare and to do, 
Ye were faithful and true : 

Welcome home, welcome home, home again. 

II. 

Welcome home, welcome home, to your kindred 

and friends, 
To the dear ones who wait you with welcoming 

hands. 



MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 85 

To the true hearts that with you have labored in 

prayer, 
To the churches that gladly your burdens would 
share, 
To the dear native land, 
From a far-away strand. 
Welcome home, welcome home, home again. 

III. 

Welcome home, welcome home, in the Master's 
dear name, 

We receive you for His sake by love's royal 
claim ; 

In the joy of the Lord may your strength be re- 
newed, 

And anew with His Spirit your souls be endued, 
As you labor and rest, 
In his fellowship blest: 

Welcome home, welcome home, home again. 

A BREAD CRUMB ON THE WATERS. 

A dear missionary friend, writing to us from Inanda, 
Central Africa, in 1908, enclosed iu her letter, for our 
reading, an anonymous poem, in leaflet form, bearing the 
imprint of J. E. Jowett, New York. The same verses had 
come to us in a chance old copy of The Christian Wit- 
ness, bearing date of 1887, and again in Messiah's Her- 
ald, of the same year, and still again in The Mission^ 
ary Tidings, of 1894, in every case without author's 
name. Turning to the bound volumes of The Evangelical 
Messenger, we find in the issue of February 17, 1885, the 



86 MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 

same verses as they appeared for the first time. Now 
then, after more than a quarter of a century, we will 
give the lines a new send-off, just as originally printed, 
as follows: 

Note. — Among the many heathen souls brought to a 
knowledge of the truth through the labors of our mis- 
sionaries in Tokio, Japan, was the venerable Mother 
Horinouchi, who had lived over eighty years in the dark- 
ness of heathenism. Great was the joy of this aged 
mother when she found peace in believing on the revealed 
Saviour of sinners. The sainted Dr. Krecker, writing an 
account of a baptismal and communion service conducted 
by himself, soon after the conversion of this woman, 
closed with the following reference to her : ' ' Truly it 
was a blessed day. Mother Horinouchi 's heart especially 
was full, and she kept repeating over and over again, dur- 
ing the day, 'I am so glad! I am so glad!' " 

"I Am So Glad!" 

Wandering and lone, lost, heart-sick, unknown, 
Weary and helpless, decrepit and old, 
Out in the wilderness, far from the fold, 
Late in the evening, night falling fast, 
Lo, the Good Shepherd has found me at last! 
Oh, I am so glad ! I am so glad ! 



Rescued at last, dear Saviour, at last ! 
Wonder of wonders ! Oh, how can it be, 
Jesus, the Shepherd, should think upon me ! 
Seek me, and take me to dwell in His fold, 
A sinner, unworthy, and useless and old ! 
Oh, I am so glad ! I am so glad ! 



MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 87 

Burdens are gone I My fears are all flown ! 
Past is the gloom of my heathenish night ! 
Bright is the dawn of Christ's marvelous light! 
Raptured, I gaze in His beautiful face ! 
Oh, this is wonderful, wonderful grace ! 
Oh, I am so glad ! I am so glad ! 

Now I am blest, my heart is at rest. 
Peaceful and calm in the Spirit 's control ; 
Life everlasting I feel in my soul ! 
Sweet is the sense of this favor divine ! 
Jesus and heaven and all things are mine ! 
Oh, I am so glad ! I am so glad ! 



TO OUR DEPARTING MISSIONARIES. 

Dedicated to Rev. F. Krecker and wife, Rev. A. Halm- 
huber, and Miss R. Hudson, our first missionaries to the 
heathen, and sung at the farewell meeting, held on the 
eve of their departure for Japan, in Cleveland, O., Oct. 
1, 1876. 

Go and seek the lost and djnng; 

Preach the world's glad jubilee. 
Like the herald angels, flying. 

Bear God 's message o 'er the sea ; 
Toil for Jesus 

Till the blind His glorj^ see. 

Go and tell the blessed story 
Of the holy Lamb of God; 



88 MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 

Show the poor His grace and glory ; 
Lead the dying to His blood, 

Ever crying, 
Oh, behold the Lamb of God ! 

May the peace of God attend you, 
As you gather precious spoil ; 

May His arms of love defend you 
In the conflict and turmoil ; 

May His presence 
Cheer you on the field of toil. 

Fare you well ! Whate 'er betide you, 
Look to Jesus for His grace; 

He will comfort, cheer and guide you, 
Till at last, in His embrace. 

Safe forever, 
You shall see Him face to face. 



"IS IT TRUE?" 

Those who stood by the bedside of the beloved dying 
missionary, Arthur C. Lindenmcyer, in China, heard him 
say repeatedly, "Is it true? Is it true?" They did not 
know what he meant as he thus soliloquized, although 
they thought he realized that the end of his life was near. 

Lord, my Master, "is it true" that I 

So soon must cease at once to work and live? 

To this far country came I at Thy call. 



MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES. 89 

To tell the story of Thy love and grace 

To those for whom Thy precious blood was shed, 

And with them live and serve and toil for Thee. 

0, "is it true" that now I must go hence — 
So much to do, and my work scarce begun ! 
So great Thy harvest, and the laborers few ! 
So loud the cry of need, so loud Thy call, 
So swift the passing day, the coming night. 
And I may work no more — 0, "is it true?" 

Lord, "is it true" mine eyes so soon must close 
To answering eyes of love 1 That this sweet face 
That o'er me bends with wooing, yearning love, 
Must vanish from my sight in death's eclipse? 
So sweet, so brief, our radiant, happy dream 
Of wedded life all consecrate to Thee? 

Lord, "is it true" my work for Thee is done? 
So soon from toil and pain dost set me free? 
can it be that I so soon shall know 
Even as I am known ? That I shall see 
No longer dimly, darkly through a glass, 
But face to face ! Jesus, face to face ! 



Easter 



MARY!— RABBONI! 

Jesus saitli unto her, ' ' Mary ! ' ' She saith unto Him, 
"Eabboni!" 

" Mary!" 

Poor woman's heart, dead to all earthly 

charms, 
What voice can reach her in that solitude 
Of sacred grief where now she dwells apart, 
Disconsolate, alone with one Dead Face 
Last seen on Calvary and in the tomb 
Where loving hands had laid her Lord away, 

" Mary!" 

The voice is strangely sweet. Her smitten soul 
Leaps like an echo to its mystic thrill. 
Who speaks ? An angel ? Or the gardener 
Who knows not wh}' she weeps, or whom she 

seeks ? 
0, no ! She looks again. HE stands revealed ! 
A thousand slumbering memories wake and 

sing 

90 



EASTER POEMS. 91 

Like song birds of returning Summer days. 
A wave of glad emotion swells and breaks 
In one sweet word of answering love and joy — 
** RABBONI !" What more can the glad heart 
say? 

TO OUR VICTORIOUS CHRIST. 

Thou art the victor, Lord of life, 

'er Satan, sin, and death and hell ; 

Yea, Thou hast conquered, and through Thee 
We shall o 'ercome, and with Thee dwell. 

Thou art the Victor ! Thou hast borne 
Our griefs and sorrows all alone ; 

And through Thy conflicts here below 

Hast gained Thy glorious conqueror 's throne. 

We follow in the paths of pain 

Thy weary, bleeding feet have trod, 

And bless the Father 's faithful hand 
That holds in love the chastening rod. 

Thou art the Victor ! Death in Thee 
Hast lost his terror and his sting. 

And we safe sheltered in Thy heart, 
E 'en here our song of triumph sing. 

Though shrinking heart and flesh may fail, 
Oppressed in death's decisive hour, 



92 EASTER POEMS. 

Yet are we more than conquerors 

Through Thy victorious love and power 



THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE. 

When Jesus bowed His head and died, 

Nailed to the shameful tree, 
The shuddering heavens wailed and cried 

Above dark Calvary: 
The Son of God is dead ! is dead ! 
His blood has stained the hill-top red ! ' ' 

The orphaned Earth took up the cry : 

' ' Our Maker God is dead ! ' ' 
From open tombs Death made reply: 

"Dead! Prince of Life is dead!" 
But Hell broke forth in hideous glee — 
A wild, demoniac jubilee ! 

"Within the Father's house on high 
There fell a strange, deep chill ; 

Dread silence choked each startled cry ; 
All harps of song were still. 

Bright rank on rank the cherubim 

And seraphim gazed down on Him ! 

Then for the space of one dread hour 
Over the Father's face. 



EASTER POEMS. 93 

'er all the glory of His power, 

Dark clouds uprolled apace, 
And all the lights of heaven were dim. 
Till passed the shadow-veil from Him. 

Down from the cross, to Joseph's tomb, 

The lifeless Christ was borne, 
Where Roman seal and hopeless gloom 

Laughed faith and love to scorn. 
And while hope's last, sweet visions fled. 
His poor disciples mourned their dead. 

Not long could such unequal strife 

The dread suspense maintain; 
Death could not hold the Prince of Life, 

And He came forth again, 
While ancient tombs, whence Death had fled. 
Hailed Him the First-born from the dead. 

Soon through amazed Jerusalem 

The thrilling story ran. 
And swift the tidings came to them 

Who loved the Son of Man, 
And then He showed Himself alive 
To those whose faith He would revive. 

So came the glorious Easter Day 

Upon Earth's night of gloom. 
And drove forevermore away 

The horrors of the tomb : 



94 EASTER POEMS. 

Now lay we down our blessed dead, 
And our poor hearts are comforted ! 

" Now is Christ risen from the dead!" 
why should 'st thou be sad? 
So is it, even as He said — 

sorrowing heart, be glad ! 
In faith and hope and holy cheer 
Go thou thy way till He appear ! 



THE DEAD SHALL RISE. 

"Thy dead shall live; my dead body shall arise. 
Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, for thy dew 
is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the 
dead. ' '— Isa. 26 : 19, E. V. 

Man dies and wastes away, 
Back to his native clay, 
And o'er the moaning wave, 
Or unresponsive grave. 
Love weeps and cries in vain: 
0, shall he live again? 
Or shall he mouldering lie 
Beneath the heedless sky, 
While endless ages fly? 
Lo, from beyond the skies 
A cheering Voice replies : 
' ' Thy dead again shall rise ! ' ' 



EASTER POEMS. 95 

But oh, "How are the dead raised up? 
And with what body do they come ? ' ' 
' ' Thou foolish one ! ' ' On every page 
Of Nature's open book behold 
The answer of the Lord thy God. 

How are they raised ? As God doth raise 

The buried seed that slumbering lies, 

And dies to rise, and rising dies, 

And from death blossoms into life, 

For He who made the wondrous seed, 

He giveth it a body meet. 

As pleaseth Him. So from the dust, 

Where low the natural body lies, 

A spiritual body shall He raise. 

And this poor mortal must put on 

A glorious immortality. 

OUR PENTECOSTAL SONG. 

O Christ, Thou victor o'er the grave. 
Exalted on Thy throne to save, 
To Thee with one accord we raise 
Our Pentecostal songs of praise. 

Thy promise is to us and ours, 
And Thine are all the heavenly powers ; 
give us. Lord, at any cost. 
The fire and power of Pentecost! 
7 



96 EASTER POEMS. 

In faith and joyful hope we bless 
Thy wondrous grace and faithfulness, 
For oh ! Thou canst, Thou wilt, Thou dost 
Pour down on us the Holy Ghost! 

Oh, glorious Pentecostal hour ! 
The Comforter has come with power. 
To save, to sanctify, to guide. 
And in us evermore abide. 



Devotional Poems 



"SHOW ME THY WAY." 

"I pray Thee, if I have found grace in Thy sight, 
show me now Thy way, that I may know Thee, that I 
may find grace in Thy sight." — Ex. 33: 13. 

Show me Thy way, O Lord I pray, 
That I may make Thy way my way. 
And, like old Enoch, walk with Thee, 
Until, like him. Thou takest me. 

Show me Thy way. I would not choose, 
Nor Thine own choice for me refuse. 
If only I may walk with Thee, 
And at the last Thy glory see. 

Show me Thy way. Thy way is right : 
I walk by faith, and not by sight ; 
• The Word my all-sufficient Light, 
Thy Presence my supreme delight. 

Show me Thy way. I will not fear. 
Though rough and steep the way appear, 
Though long and weary miles there be 
Between the Glory Goal and me. 
97 



98 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

NEAR THE END. 

My heart and flesh are quaking, 
Beside the gaping tomb; 

But see : the light is breaking, 
Like sunrise through the gloom ! 

The way is clear before me. 
The light is breaking through, 

The sky is brightening o'er me. 
And home is in my view! 



THE CHURCH'S PRAYER FOR REVIVAL. 

The days are dark, the world is old ; 
The love of many groweth cold ; 
The hosts of sin are strong and bold : 
O Lord, revive Thy work ! 

Thy people, wandering from Thy fold, 
In Mammon's mart are bought and sold. 
With pride of life and lust of gold : 
Lord, revive Thy work ! 

We see Thy signal lights on high ; 
Thy warning signs upon the sky ; 
Thy woeful judgments drawing nigh : 
Lord, revive Thy work ! 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 99 

'Tis not by might nor power below, 
But by Thy Spirit, Lord, we know, 
Thy Church must on to conquest go : 
O Lord, revive Thy work ! 

The boasted help of man is vain ; 
Helpless we turn to Thee again, 
And still repeat the old refrain : 
Lord, revive Thy work ! 

Hear Thou our cry; behold our tears; 
Confirm our faith ; rebuke our fears ; 
And in these rushing, fateful years, 
Lord, revive Thy work ! 

Church of God, would 'st thou behold 
Such wonders as the fathers told 
Jehovah wrought in days of old ? 
Pray without ceasing, pray! 

Yea, would 'st thou have Him show to thee 
The ' ' greater works ' ' that are to be. 
And let Him work His will through thee ? 
Pray without ceasing, pray ! 

He will not, can not, say thee nay ; 
No power His mighty arm can stay ; 
Be this my cry, by night and day: 
Lord, revive Thy work ! 



100 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

CHRIST MY ALL! 

Christ, if I Thy love may know, 
For Thee my feet shall gladly go. 
Through fields of toil and paths of woe. 

To follow Thee shall be my joy, 
To toil for Thee my sweet employ, 
Content Thy favor to enjoy. 

All riches seek I in Thy grace, 

All glory in Thy lovely face, 

All peace and bliss in Thy embrace. 

No toil shall be too great for me. 
If only I may walk with Thee, 
And at the last Thy glory see. 

"I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU." 

John 14: 1-3. 

Lord Jesus, we believe in God, 

And we believe in Thee, 
And in this sweet, confiding trust 

Our hearts are trouble-free. 

We know that in Thy Father's house 

Are many mansions, too. 
For surely, if it were not true, 

Thou would 'st have told us so! 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 101 

This, too, we know, for Thou hast said 
That where those mansions be 

Thou hast prepared a place for us, 
That we may be with Thee. 

Lord, we believe Thy promise, too. 

That Thou wilt come again 
And wilt receive us to Thyself, 

To share Thy glorious reign. 

"WILL YE ALSO GO AWAY?" 

Still in a hostile world, rejected and unknown, 
Thou Man of Sorrows tread 'st Thy weary way 

alone : 
Still in Thy dark Gethsemanes dost weep and 

cry, 
While Thy disciples nigh in heedless slumber 

lie. 

Still bleeds Thy tender heart, as traitor hands 
betray, 

And craven souls deny and leave Thee, day 
by day. 

While to the faithful few we hear Thee plead- 
ing say, 

My disciples, will ye also go away ? ' ' 

O blessed Jesus! we would answer Thee this 
day: 



102 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

We must have Thee, and we will never go 

away! 
Thou only hast words of eternal life, and we — 
How could we live in this dark world apart 

from Thee? 

Thy faithful witnesses, Lord, we vow to be ; 
To stand and speak for Thee when others fail 

and flee, 
To follow Thee alone, and midst reproach and 

shame 
Defend Thine honor and exalt Thy glorious 

name. 

Lord, by Thy mighty grace we toil and suffer 

on. 
Till Thou shalt give us glad release at set of 

sun, 
And in the Father's house, where Thou dost 

dwell alway, 
Shalt bid us welcome, where none ever go 

away. 

DO THY GOOD WILL. 

Do Thy good will, my God ! 
Too long, alas, too long have I done mine. 
And wrought disaster only ; now do Thine ! 
Thy patient love thus far has borne with me, 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 103 

And taught my heart Thy better will to see ; 
Now would I only strive to do or be 
What I may do or be, Lord, in Thee. 

Do Thy good will, my God ! 
I will not ask how hard or long my way ; 
I only ask to walk with Thee alway. 
Nor care I what the pain, the shame, the loss. 
Or what the burden of my daily cross. 
If only I may see Thy radiant face. 
And know Thy constant love and saving grace. 

Do Thy good will, my God ! 
I would not choose my lot, nor seek again 
To turn aside and shun the path of pain. 
Content I am with what Thy love ordains. 
No matter what life 's losses or its gains ; 
Let me but restfully abide in Thee, 
While Thou dost work Thy perfect will in me. 

LORD, CAN IT BE? 

My gracious Lord and Master, can it be 

That Thou dost seek a dwelling place with me? 

Wilt Thou a Guest in my poor home abide, 
And be my household Friend and constant 
Guide ? 



104 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

And may I sit, like Mary, at Thy feet. 

To hear Thy gracious words, so rich and sweet? 

wilt Thou deign sometimes to let me rest. 
Like loving John, upon Thy gentle breast? 

And wilt Thou let me walk and talk with Thee, 
"With open face Thy grace and beauty see? 

And wilt Thou to my soul Thy glory show. 
And fill me with Thy love 's rich overflow ? 

0, if Thou wilt but so with Me abide, 
Then, even here, I will be satisfied. 

And patient wait the hour of final grace, 
When I shall see, unveiled. Thy glorious face. 

A WHISPER TO THE TEACHER. 

Go, speak to Jesus first, 
Then to the child. Go, let Him speak to thee, 
Who taught on earth in Judah's waning days, 
On mountain slopes, along the pebbly beach. 
And on the joyous billows of the sea. 
Yes, in the closet hear His voice, who spake 
As never man did speak. Ask for His mind. 
Whose patience bore the burdens of a world. 
Ask trustingly ; the promise is to thee ; 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 105 

Thou shalt receive. Then meet the child as one 
For whom the Saviour died. That ransomed 

soul — 
God knows — it may be given thee to lift 
The little fledgling to an angel 's seat. 
touch not heedlessly the chords that thrill 
To gladness or to woe. Lay gentle hands 
On things that tell the tale in other worlds. 
Go, speak to Jesus ; wait His answering word ; 
Then tell the trusting child, like one who comes, 
Transfigured, from the mount of prayer. 



SPIRIT HARMONY. 

Come, Holy Ghost, my spirit fill, 
Till ever}' trembling chord 

With love's ecstatic music thrill. 
In full and sweet accord ! 

Thy will, God, be done in me ; 

Attune my will to Thine, 
That so my life a song may be 

Of harmony divine. 

Then shall my life make melody, 

And testify for Thee, 
Till other hearts enraptured be, 

And Thy salvation see. 



106 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

Come, Holy Ghost, come in! come in! 

Possess my ransomed soul ! 
Forever dwell and reign within, 

With love's supreme control. 

LET ME NOT FEAR. 

Let me not fear, Lord, to go at Thy command, 
And with Thy struggling hosts in battle's front 

to stand; 
Or, helpless in the crisis of some dreadful fate. 
In fainting weakness for Thy help and comfort 

wait. 

For Oh, I know the darkness of impending fate 
Is but the shadow of the opening golden gate ! 
And e'en to die for Thee upon Thy chosen field, 
Is but to fall asleep beneath Thy lifted shield. 

"IF WE FAINT NOT." 

And let us not be weary in well doing; for in due 
season we shall reap, if we faint not. — Gal. 6 : 9. 

Do well, and weary not ; 
Stand steadfast in thy lot ; 
God will forget thee not ; 
For thou shalt surely reap. 
In God's due season. 
If thou faint not. 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 107 

Sow thou with toil and tears ; 
Wait, patient through the years, 
Till harvest time appears. 
For thou shalt surely reap, 
In God's due season. 
If thou faint not. 

faint not 'neath thy load, 
Fear not the lash, the goad, 
Though long and rough the road: 
For thou shalt surely reap, 
In God's due season. 
If thou faint not. 

Behold the westering sun : 
Thy work will soon be done, 
Thy race of duty run. 

And thou shalt surely reap. 
In God's due season, 
If thou faint not. 



THE BEST I CAN. 

Lord of harvest. Thou hast spoken, 
''Go work for Me to-day." 

Grant me then, I pray, this token, 
That Thou show me now Thy way. 

Fit me for my place and guide me 
In Thy great and gracious plan; 



108 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

As I need it, check me, chide me ; 
Help me do the best I can. 



"Weak I am and prone to falter. 

But I trust Thy mighty grace, 
If I may but touch Thine altar, 

And ascend the Holy Place. 
Do Thou own my weak endeavor, 

Toiling for the good of man ; 
Do Thou for me, with me, ever, 

Better than the best I can. 

ASSURANCE OF FAITH. 

I cannot know, and none can tell. 
What coming days may bring to me ; 

But this, thank God, I know full well. 
That ' ' as my day my strength shall be, ' 

This is enough — in this I rest ; 

It wraps me round and holds me close. 
Like helpless babe on mother's breast, 

In sweet content and calm repose. 

For this I thank Thee, my God, 
No matter what may come to me. 

The soft caress, the chastening rod, 
I know it shall be well with me. 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 109 

SPEAK A WORD TO GOD FOR ME. 

Brethren, pray for us.— 2 Thes. 3:1; Heb. 13 : 18 ; 
Eph. 6: 18, 19. 

The simple faith of a little girl gave a beautiful defini- 
tion, in answer to the question, "What is intercession?" 
when she made this reply : ' ' Intercession is speaking a 
word to God for us. ' ' 

Worn and weary with my toiling 

In the vineyard all the day, 
I can see no promised fruitage, 

All my labor to repay. 
Paul may plant, Apollos water, 

Fruitless still the work must be: 
I would trust no unblest labor : 

Speak a word to God for me ! 

Cares and snares are all around me ; 

Darkness falls upon my way. 
Oh, my heart is faint with longing. 

Waiting for the break of day. 
Words of cheer, I hear you speak them ; 

Hands of help outstretched I see ; 
But no hand of man can help me : 

Speak a word to God for me ! 

When the light breaks full upon thee ; 

When thy soul is all aflame ; 
When thy faith in holy daring 

God's great promises can claim; 



110 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

Oh then fold thine arms of prayer, 
In a strong availing plea, 

Round thy lonely, weary brother : 
Speak a word to God for me ! 



WITH YOU ALWAY. 

Upon my life, one day, at highest noon. 
There fell a dark eclipse. Enwrapped in 

gloom. 
With burdened soul, I groped along my way. 
The burden heavier grew, and deeper still 
The shadows gathered round my faltering feet, 
I felt as one who walks unloved, alone. 
Forgotten even by that Friend who bore 
Alone upon His breaking heart the woe, 
The bitter blinding woe of all the world. 
I prayed. Up through the darkness rose my 

cry, 
By night, by day ; and this was all my prayer : 
Lord, come to me! Oh, come! Lord, come to 

yne!" 

My Lord came not ! But as I prayed there 

came. 
As from the lips of One quite near, this word : 
Come unto me! Thou heavy-laden heart. 
Thou weary, toiling one, come unto Me!" 
And I remembered then what He had said, 



DEVOTIONAL POEMS. Ill 

And oft repeated to my listening heart, 
In many a lonely walk of years agone : 
*' Lo, I am with you alway, to the end!" 
Then straightway I was comforted in Him, 
And knew that warm, sweet presence in the 

dark. 
Assured that He had never left my side. 
At highest noon, or deepest, darkest night. 
So will I hold me henceforth to His word. 
And trust where I can neither see nor hear, 
For He is faithful that hath promised me. 
East Northfield, Mass. 

THYSELF THY GIFT TO ME. 

My heart doth rest, not in ray faith, Lord, 
But in Thy truth, in Thee, Thou living Word. 
My faith is but the e^^e that looks to Thee, 
The hand that takes the gift held out to me ; 
And oh, amazing grace, so rich and free. 
Thou art Thyself Thy priceless gift to me! 

"WHEN THOU PRAYEST." 

Go to thy closet, shut thy door, and wait. 
Thy Father bids thee come. Lo, He is there ! 
Go tell Him all thy thoughts and deep desires. 
He seeth in secret, knows thy every care, 
And will reward thee openly. Arise, 



112 DEVOTIONAL POEMS. 

He calleth thee. Go, hear what He will say. 

Go, hush thy heart to listen to His voice ; 

Be still, and thou shalt know that He is God. 



COMMIT THY WAY. 

Commit thy way unto the Lord, 

Trust thou in Him alone, 
And He shall bring to pass His word. 

And make His goodness known. 

He shall bring forth thy righteousness 

Clear as the shining light. 
And make the noonday sun confess 

Thy judgment and thy right. 



TAKE THY LEGACY. 

Repent thee, thou foolish heart, 
That thou so long hast dwelt apart 
From Christ's rich legacy of grace, 
And the sweet sunshine of His face. 
Now, at the open gate of prayer, 
Claim and possess thy waiting share! 



Poems on the Divinity 



"WHO IS ABOVE ALL." 

Eph. 4: 6. 

The thoughts of God are higher 
Than my poor thought and thine, 

And in their mighty orbits 
They roll in light divine. 

The ways of God are wiser, 
And lead to holier ground. 

Than ways of our devising, 
That run their selfish round. 

The care of God is wider. 
Than all the world of need, 

And in its high pavilion 
The soul is safe indeed. 

The help of God is stronger 
Than dark satanic might ; 

And he who rests upon it 
Shall conquer in the fight. 
113 



114 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

The grace of God is greater 
Than human woe and sin, 

And in the soul 's deep conflict 
The victory shall win. 

The love of God is deeper 
Than human hate or fear; 

But in its perfect fullness 
It doth not yet appear. 

TRUST IN JESUS. 

Trust in Jesus, forward go, 
Conquering every fear and foe ; 
Strong in faith and brave in trial. 
Walk the way of self-denial, 
Wheresoe'er He bids thee go. 

Trust in Jesus ; do His will ; 

Trust alike for good and ill ; 

To His precious promise clinging, 
Go thy way with joy and singing ; 

Though He slay thee, trust Him still. 

Trust in Jesus : He will be 
More than all the world to thee. 

Life and riches, peace and blessing. 
All in all in Him possessing, 
how happy thou shalt be ! 



POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 115 
MOSES ON THE MOUNT. 

I have come to Thy pavilion, 
On this quaking mountain brow, 

And I feel Thy thrilling Presence! 
Thou art here, and near me now ! 

Clouds and darkness are around Thee, 

In this awful, holy place : 
Oh, break through the veil of shadows ! 

Let me see Thee, face to face ! 

I have seen Thine arm, Jehovah, 

As it cleft the sea in twain, 
And the might of hostile armies 

Dashed in pieces on the plain. 

I have seen Thy royal garments 

Trailing on the sunset hills. 
When the vision of Thy beauty 

All the soul with rapture fills. 

I have seen Thy fiery chariots 

Through the darkened heavens fly. 

While the thunder of Thy power 
Shook the pillars of the sky. 

I have seen Thy loving-kindness 
In Thy tender, guardian care, 



116 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

In Thy fieiy, cloudy pillar 
Floating on the desert air; 

And the daily rain of manna 
From the heaven of Thy love, 

With the sweet, refreshing waters 
Bursting from the rocks above. 

But I wait in Thy pavilion, 

On this burning mountain 's brow, 

For a grander revelation 

Of Thy wondrous Presence now ! 

Oh, my soul burns hot within me. 
In this high and holy place, — 

I beseech Thee, let me see Thee ! 
Show me now Thy glorious face ! 



OUR HEARTS SHALL GIVE THEE ROOM. 

Jesus! name of names the sweetest far 
That ever thrilled the air of night or day ! 
Jesus ! Thy blessed name makes fragrant still 
The storied hills and vales of Bethlehem. 
There from a distant world Thou didst appear. 
Forsaking throne and crown and palace halls, 
To cast Thy lot with all the lowly poor 
And bear the woes of lost and sinful man. 
Earth had no open door of home or inn, 



POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 117 

No welcome for the helpless little child, 

But, swathed in mother love and swaddling 

bands, 
Sweet Mary laid Thee in a manger bed. 
O Christ, we welcome Thee, for Thou hast come 
To tarry with us and our little ones. 
Our glad and grateful hearts shall give Thee 

room 
And warm, sweet atmosphere of purest love. 

"GO FORWARD!" 

Forward in the Name of Jesus, 

Let us go at His command. 
One in mind and heart and purpose. 

Guided by His mighty hand. 

Forward in the Faith of Jesus, 

In the Holy Spirit 's power ; 
Without Him we can do nothing. 

With Him triumph every hour. 

Forward in the Love of Jesus, 

As the stewards of His grace, 
Seeking only His approval. 

As we go before His face. 

Forward, with the Mind of Jesus, 
Counting everything but loss. 



118 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

So we may but win His favor, 
Glorying in His crimson cross. 

Forward with the Conquering Jesus, 
One in faith and hope and love; 

Forward till the war is over, 

And we'll reign with Him above. 



OUR UNSEEN SAVIOUR. 

1 Pet. 1:8; 1 Jno. 3:2. 

Long have we loved our blessed Lord, unseen. 
Since first we heard of Him in Gospel story ; 

And, though unseen, in Him we do rejoice 
"With joy unspeakable and full of glory." 

Now are we sons of God, and this we know. 
As here by faith we tell the wondrous story, 

That when at last our Saviour shall appear. 
We shall be like Him and behold His glory. 

THE MASTER OF THE STORM. 

I. 

*' Be still !" My Master's voice rings out, 
Imperious, through the stormy rout. 
Where sky and sea, where wind and wave 
In darkness meet, in fury rave, 



POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 119 

While helpless men in terror cry 
For help and rescue ere they die. 

II. 

Be still ! ' ' Above the cry of fear 
That Voice the fearful heart can hear : 
Lo, winds and waves are hushed and still, 
Caught in the mandate of His will : 
The winds salute, obey, retreat ; 
The waves lie fawning at His feet. 

III. 

So maketh He the storm a calm, 
So makes the air a breath of balm, 
And straitway, grounding on the sand. 
Our boat lies safely "at the land." 
So worketh He His sovereign will. 
His loving purpose to fulfil. 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME. 

Earth has no name so dear to man, 
So linked with human destinies, as Thine, 
My blessed Jesus ! All that tongue can tell, 
That pen can write, or glowing soul conceive 
May not portray the beauty of Thy name. 
All earth is radiant with its holy light : 
Hope springs exultant in its beams, and Faith, 



120 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

"With eagle eye fix'd on it, dares to shout 
And fling her challenge to the hosts of hell. 
One ray, flash 'd on the darken 'd soul, has lit 
A flame that many waters cannot quench — 
A love to blaze immortal in the breast. 

When in the drear, deserted mem'ry halls 
No echo wakes to human thought or word. 
This precious name with music fills them all, 
And thrills the stagnant pulses e 'en in death. 

No other name may come 
With such a gentle ministry of love 
To dying-beds, to bruis 'd and bleeding hearts, 
To drooping mourners, to the lowly poor, 
To hopeless toilers groaning to be free. 

No other name can bring 
Salvation to the lost, life to the dead, 
Or fill the deathless spirit 's vast desires. 
Or beard the burden of our human hopes, 
Or charm our cares away, or stay the flow 
Of sorrow's bitter tears, or touch the sigh. 
Transform, and send it wing'd with joy to 
heav 'n. 

No other name we seek 
To cheer us on our rugged pilgrim way. 
Our dearest hopes, our soul 's eternal all. 



POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 121 

Our trembling faith, our trust and all our joys 
Are hung upon Thy name, Saviour dear; 
And Thou wilt never fail us in our need, 
No, never leave us, never cease to love, 
But keep us now, and crown us "at that Day ' ' 
When Thou shalt come again and claim Thine 
own. 



THE BEAUTY OF THE LORD. 

* ' How beautiful is God ! ' ' were the dying words of 
Charles Kingsley as earth receded and heaven opened 
before him. 

How beautiful is God ! His radiant face 
Beams on my soul with such a wondrous grace, 
I can but lie in silent awe and wait. 
With dying hand upon the opening gate. 
Content to linger through these quiet hours. 
With dimming, closing eyes, and failing pow- 
ers. 
And hear again what once to me He said. 
When all my soul was filled with pain and 

dread, 
As low I bowed beneath His lifted rod : 
"My child, be still, and know that I am God!" 

How beautiful is God ! I cannot tell. 
As here I lie beneath the heavenly spell. 
What beauteous visions rise upon my gaze, 



122 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

Like stars of glory, through the golden haze. 
The soft, sweet radiance of a world unseen 
Falls on my face, and veils the earthly scene ; 
Mine eyes behold the King ! All other bliss 
Dies in the glorious eclipse of this ! 
I fear no more the loss, the pain, the rod ! 
I will be still ! I know that He is God ! 



WITH JESUS ON THE SEA. 

The night is dark, the wind is high. 
And wild the foaming billows fly, 
Yet am I ever glad to be 
With Jesus on the roaring sea. 

The sea is His, and shall I fear. 
When in the storm He doth appear? 
Nay, storm or calm, Oh, let me be 
With Jesus on the changeful sea. 

The raging waters own their Lord; 
The winds obey His royal word. 
And calm in trust 'tis mine to be 
With Jesus on the peaceful sea. 

And what, though sinking in the deep. 
The waves would rock me in my sleep. 
And still the joy be mine to be 
With Jesus in the deep blue sea. 



POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 123 
A SAVIOUR TO THE UTTERMOST. 

Thou hast no sorrow Jesus cannot share 
No load He can not lift or help to bear 
No loss He cannot find and bring again 
Transfigured into everlasting gain; 

No sad and lonely hours He cannot cheer ; 
No stormy seas where He cannot appear ; 
No foes in all thy spirit's deadly fight 
His mighty arm cannot defeat and smite. 

Thou hast no sin, however deep its stain, 
But He can cleanse and make thee white again. 
And at the last present thee by His grace 
Faultless and pure before His Father's face. 

SHOW ME THY GLORY. 

I. 

God, I hear Thy voice ; 
I see the sunshine of Thy face ; 
I feel the kindlings of Thy grace; 
And in Thy love rejoice. 
And yet, I feel. 
Thou canst reveal 
A greater glory still, 
And all my being fill. 
Oh, I beseech Thee, 

Come to me : 
Show me Thy glory ! 



124 POEMS ON THE DIVINITY. 

II. 
My eyes are dull and dim; 
I see but darkly through a glass, 
While far-off floating visions pass 
Before me like a dream. 
Lord, I beseech Thee, 

Speak to me : 
Show me Thy glory ! 

III. 

My heart is sick of sin, 

Of all the flash, and gaudy show, 

That dazzle and perplex me so : 

Oh, let me look within ! 

Lord, I beseech Thee, 

Come to me : 
Show me Thy glory ! 

IV. 

I lift my eyes to Thee ; 
To Thee my kindling spirit turns, 
And all my soul with ardor burns. 
Thy glorious face to see ! 
And oh, I feel. 
Thou canst reveal 
A greater glory still. 
And all my being fill. 
Oh, I beseech Thee, 

Come to me : 
Show me Thy glory ! 



Birthday Anniversaries and 
Special Occasions 



FIFTY YEARS OLD. 

To my brother, in the "Sunrise Kingdom," on the fif- 
tieth anniversary of his birth, January 18, 1883. 

Dear pilgrim, on thy homeward way, 

Thou faithful brother mine, 
I greet thee on this natal day, 

With love to thee and thine. 

In wondrous ways thou hast not known. 
Through mingling hopes and fears, 

Thy God has safely led thee on. 
Through half a hundred years ! 

Thy life seems but a little span, — 

A streamlet's rapid flow, 
Since first thy mortal course began, 

Just fifty years ago. 

Behind thee, like a radiant dream. 

Thy vanished childhood lies; 
While manhood's nobler prizes gleam. 

Like stars, before thine eyes. 

125 



126 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

Here raise thine Ebenezer high, 
With praise and grateful tears, 

For God has been thy Helper nigh. 
Through half a hundred years. 

Thou soon shalt reach that goodly land, 
Where end life's broken years, 

And God Himself, with gentle hand, 
Shall wipe away thy tears. 

Beyond thy two-score years and ten 

The best is yet to come! 
For Christ's own hand shall crown thee then. 

When faith has overcome. 

Toil on, then, brother, toil and wait. 

And fight in faith to win. 
Till God shall ope the golden gate. 

And say, * ' 'Tis done ! Come in ! " 

BIRTHDAY TOKEN. 

Dedicated to Betsey Holton Moody. 
1804— February 5—1894. 



Rejoice ! Oh, be thou glad this day. 

Thou blessed daughter of the King, 
For He hath been thy staff and stay, 
His hand hath led thee all the way, 
And caused the widow 's heart to sing. 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS 127 

II. 

Eejoice ! This day hath brought to thee 

The morning dawn of ninety years ; 
And just beyond thine eyes may see 
The home where many mansions be, 
The end of care and toil and tears. 

III. 

Eejoice ! Be glad, and weary not : 

Thy cherished friends their love attest, 
And in this loved, familiar spot. 
Where God hath cast thine earthly lot, 
Thy children rise and call thee blest. 

IV. 

Rejoice ! God guides thy pilgrimage, 
He gives thee what He deemeth best, — 

A calm, serene and peaceful age, 

A goodly earthly heritage. 

And promise of a heavenly rest. 

V. 

Rejoice ! Look up ! Lift up thine head, 

For thy redemption draweth nigh ! 
And when these earthly years have fled. 
Thou in eternal youth shalt tread 
The glorious streets of gold on high. 

"The Hermonite," East Northfield, Mass., Feb. 5, 
1894. 

9 



128 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

OUR HOUSE BESIDE THE ROAD. 

A psalm of love for our United Evangelical Home. 
Composed for and read at the dedication of the United 
Evangelical Home, Lewisburg, Pa., August 4, 1916, by 
Eev. H. B. Hartzler. 

Here is our goodly House beside the Road : 
Fruition of our hope so long deferred; 
Reward of faith persistent thro ' the years ; 
Love's dream a blest reality at last — 
Our House beside the Road ! 

"We call it "Home" — not mere bare walls and 

roof, 
A place of shelter from the beating storm, 
The rain, the cold, and filled with sustenance 
To feed the body for a transient stay — 
Oh, no ! We call it Home, a holy place. 
Where kindred souls in love and peace may 

dwell — 
Our House beside the Road. 

We call it Home — our House beside the Road — 
For here no alien spirit shall intrude, 
But it shall be for pilgrims of the road 
Grown weary from the hardness of the way. 
And for the lonely hearts bereft of friends, 
And for the orphaned poor, forlorn and sad, — 
For such as these shall this be truly Home — 
Our House beside the Road. 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 129 

We call it Home, for here betimes shall come 
The worn itinerant from the toilsome field, 
And she who bore for him the heaviest load, 
That here the blessed lesson they may learn : 
' ' They also serve who only stand and wait, ' ' 
In patient faith, content to occupy 
Our House beside the Road. 

We call it Home, for here shall He abide 
Who walked with burdened heart and weary feet 
The storied hills and vales of Palestine, 
And had not where to lay His weary head. 
Here at His feet shall loving Marys sit. 
And anxious Marthas serve, with equal love. 
And Lazarus, too, while grace and peace shall fill 
Our House beside the Road. 

We call it Home, but ah, full well we know 
That ' ' no continuing city ' ' have we here ! 
The pilgrims of the road who enter here 
May tarry but awhile to watch and wait, 
Assured that they shall find with open door 
The house not made with hands, the Heavenly 

Home, 
When God Himself shall call and bid .them leave 
Our House beside the Road ! 

O God! Thou "Father of the fatherless," 
' ' Judge of the widows ' ' in Thy holy place. 
Friend of the friendless, Comfort of old age, 



130 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

We come to be co-workers here with Thee, 
And for a sheltering home for such as these, 
In faith and hope we consecrate to Thee 
Our House beside the Road ! 

This Home is Thine ! Here shall Thine honor 

dwell ! 
Here shall Thine altar fires undying burn ! 
Here shall the censor of sweet incense swing, 
And here triumphant shall Thy praises ring ! 
These hills and smiling vales, these fruitful 

fields, 
These bannered trees that clap their happy 

hands, 
These golden harvests born by Mother Earth, 
These crystal waters from her bounteous breast — 
All, all are Thine, and we Thy right maintain ! 
We are but stewards. Lord, for Thee and Thine. 
And oh, we pray Thee, do Thou not forsake 
Our House beside the Road ! 

FROM A HUSBAND TO HIS WIFE. 

On her forty-ninth birthday. 

Thou dear companion of my heart and life. 
Who long hast borne the sacred name of wife, 
I greet thee on this happy, natal day. 
And pray, "God speed thee on thy pilgrim 
way ! ' ' 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 131 

This day time 's fingers trace the mystic line 
That marks thy life 's high noon of forty-nine ! 
And on this shining summit of the years 
Anew the mercj^ of Thy Lord appears. 

Though time may touch thy bonnie hair with 

gray, 
He cannot steal the bloom of life away ! 
And though he chill thy years with wintry cold, 
He cannot make thy youthful heart grow old ! 

All hail, then, as along the mystic line 
Thy footsteps touch the goal of forty -nine ! 
All hail ! for love and truth — like purest gold — 
Shrined in a faithful heart, grow never old ! 

TO REV. A. STAHLEY, FORRESTON, ILL. 

Eighty-six beautiful years. 1821— Oct. 3—1907. 

Dear, aged pilgrim, on thy homeward way, 
AVith love we greet thee on this happy day ; 
We joy that thou, through all life's hopes and 

fears. 
Hast reached the goal of six and four-score 

years. 

God bless thee, thou faithful friend, we pray ; 
May grace and peace make glad thy heart to-day. 
May faith and hope with heavenly light arise. 
Like glorious stars in summer evening skies. 



132 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

Thy God, whom thou dost serve continually, 
Will still thy joy, thy help, thy comfort be ; 
His love will be thy trusting heart 's delight, 
And so, "at evening time it shall be light." 

Behind thee lie thy six and four-score years ; 
Before thee heaven 's eternal day appears ; 
And in God's own good time, and by His grace, 
Thy raptured eyes shall see Him face to face ! 



THE PUBLISHING HOUSE OF THE UNITED 
EVANGELICAL CHURCH. 

A refrain of gratitude and faith and hope. 

In this fair city long since grown to man 's estate. 
Embosomed in this highly favored central 

state, — 
A state that proudly bears its godly founder's 

name, — 
Here, on her chosen ground, our Church has 

staked her claim. 

Beneath these eastern skies our Albright heard 

God 's call 
To go, as His ambassador, forsaking all. 
And he, obedient to the heavenly \dsion high. 
Went forth to preach the word, to suffer, and to 

die. 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 133 

Here, too, our fathers and our saintly mothers 
wrought, 

And, far beyond our sainted Albright's fondest 
thought, 

Enlisted in the glorious work he had begun, 

Completing what his dying hands had left un- 
done. 

Now we, their children, reap where they, through 

toilsome years, 
Prepared the virgin soil, and sowed with toil and 

tears ; 
We build on deep foundations by our fathers 

laid, 
"We build, ''none daring to molest or make 

afraid." 

Here, now, upon the Susquehanna's friendly 

shore. 
Where once the savage Indian roamed in days 

of yore. 
Within a city crowned with legislative halls, 
And warned of evil ways by frowning prison 

walls. 
Its traffic-laden streets adorned and glorified 
With goodl}' homes and sanctuaries side by 

side, — 
Here has our gracious Master cast our happy lot. 
And granted us a spot ' ' where foes and fears are 

not." 



134 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

O, many hands have toiled and many hearts have 

prayed. 
Through strenuous days and years, with courage 

undismayed, 
And many weary feet have trod the toilsome way 
That brought us to the goal of this triumphant 

day. 

And now, upreared by faith, by consecrated 

hands. 
This many-mansioned house, our Ebenezer 

stands : 
For "hitherto the Lord hath helped us" by His 

grace, 
And with our larger task has brought us face to 

face. 

This central power house through all the year 

shall be 
A servant of the Church in all her ministry. 
This publication plant, with deeply anchored 

roots, 
Shall, by the grace of God, bear rich, abundant 

fruits. 

This churchly home, this friendly inn beside the 

way, 
"With open doors to come and go, or come and 

stay, 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 135 

Shall ever stand for mutual service, night and 

day, 
Where all the children of the Church have right 

of way. 

Here chosen servants of the Church shall often 
meet. 

To wait in friendly council at the Master's feet, 

To plan and pray to wisely meet His high de- 
mands, 

To prosecute the work committed to their hands. 

Here shall our bishops gladly turn their weary 
feet, 

And in the prophet's chamber find a blest re- 
treat — 

Like old Elisha, in the days of long ago, 

Shall with a blessing come, and with a blessing 
go. 

Here shall the editorial heart and brain indite. 
And here the editorial hand responsive write 
The living "thoughts that breathe," in kindling 

"words that burn," 
The right to champion and the wrong to over- 
turn ; 
The Church to edify, the home to beautify. 
The truth to magnify, and God to glorify. 



136 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

Here linotypes — half human things — with 

nerves of steel, 
With hearts of fire, and hands that work the 

human will. 
Shall mould to typal forms the waiting written 

word, 
And ponderous presses too shall serve with one 

accord 
To mount the type-imprisoned thoughts on 

snowy wings, 
While over all the house their thunderous music 

rings. 

So from these wonder-working presses day by 

day. 
Shall flocks of white-winged messengers fly swift 

away. 
To bear to waiting hearts and homes, afar and 

near, 
Sweet messages of truth and life, of hope and 

cheer. 

God grant our central power house shall ever 

stand 
A monument of stainless honor in the land ; 
Its ample spaces all athrill from wall to wall 
With busy hands and brains, responsive to the 

call 
Of one strong master mind, directing one and all, 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 137 

Each at the one appointed task, both great and 

small. 
So shall this work go on, by other hands begun. 
And in the daily toil the will of God be done. 

Now, on this happy day, we come with one ac- 
cord. 
As laborers together with our gracious Lord, 
And unto God this goodly House we dedicate, 
With sacred vow to keep the faith inviolate. 
To serve the good of man, with purpose pure and 

high, 
In union with the Church, His Name to glorify. 

Now, Lord, our hearts we raise with gratitude 

and praise. 
We humbly pray, 0, be Thou with us all the 

days. 
And in Thy great campaign our hearts and 

hands sustain, 
Until Thou come again, whose right it is to reign. 

DEDICATION OF HISTORICAL SOCIETY ROOM. 

Within these sheltering walls secure, 
By pledge historic made more sure. 
This consecrated room shall hold 
Memorials of the days of old — 
A sacred shrine to memory dear, 
From henceforth till our Lord appear. 



138 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

Here face to face, with lingering feet, 
Historic past and living present meet, 
While visions of the future rise 
To greet the mystic dreamer's eyes. 

Here, in the days and years to be. 
Our children's children too may see 
Reminders of those days of yore 
When the departed fathers bore 

The heat and burden of the day. 
To sow the seed, prepare the way, 
Through years of toil, neglect and scorn, 
For generations yet unborn. 

Here may we too our past review. 
And here our sacred vows renew 
To walk the way our fathers trod. 
And glorify the Christ of God. 

To these high purposes, sacred to memory, and radiant 
with faith and hope and love, we now solemnly dedicate 
this Historic Eoom and its contents, in the name of the 
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

So may the benediction of the God of our fathers, the 
Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the fellowship and 
communion of the Holy Spirit abide with us all, now and 
forever. 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 139 

CHRISTMAS GREETING TO GRANDMA 
MOODY. 

Dear, aged pilgrim, on thy homeward way, 
We bring thee greeting on this Christmas Day, 
And with thy loved ones we rejoice with praise, 
That God hath lengthened out thy peaceful, 
happy days. 

God bless thee, mother ! we devoutly pray. 
May heavenly peace fill all thy Christmas Day, 
And faith and hope with kindly light arise. 
Like beauteous stars aglow in summer evening 
skies. 

God keep thee, mother, through the coming days, 
And gently guide thee still in all thy ways ; 
May His own presence be thy heart's delight, 
And prove to thee, ''at evening time it shall be 
light." 
East Northfield, Mass., Dec. 25, 1891. 

THANKSGIVING— THANKSLIVING. 

The saying is old and has often been told, 

Still does it pass current and good as pure gold — 

"Thanksgiving is good, but thanksliving is 
better." 
Pray do not misread, lest the saying mislead, 
For the praise of the upright is comely indeed : 

"We live by the Spirit, we die in the letter. 



140 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

THE CALL TO THANKSGIVING. 

Thou shalt therefore keep this ordinance in his season 
from year to year. — Ex. 13 : 10. 

Come, thou exalted, highly favored, mighty na- 
tion, 

Come with thy teeming millions, with thy cities 
full, 

Thy nestling cottage homes, so sweet and beau- 
tiful ; 
Come, take the brimming cup of goodness and 
salvation, 

Proclaim thy million- voiced thanksgiving, loud 
and long, 

Till all thy vales and mountains echo with the 
song ! 
Come not with empty hands, but bring some rich 
oblation 

To Him whose bankfuU streams of bounty ever 
flow. 

And at His royal feet come, humbly bending 
low. 

Come, with thy rivers, forest wilds and moun- 
tains hoary. 

Thy fertile fields, and peaceful vales, and 
singing rills, 

Thy boundless store of riches treasured in the 
hills. 



SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 141 

Come, let the listening nations hear thy grateful 

story : 
How wondrously thou hast been led in ways 

unknown, 
By Him who made this goodly heritage thine 

own. 
Come, lay thy many crowns of wealth and power 

and glory 
Before His throne whom all the heavenly hosts 

adore. 
With praise and worship and thanksgiving 

evermore. 

"WHAT MEAN YE BY THIS SERVICE?" 

Exodus 12 : 26. 

July the Fourth ! A land-wide holiday : 
Proud banners fluttering in the vibrant air, 
Like starrj' wings aspiring to the heavens; 
Tumultuous throngs of cheering, shouting 

men, 
Of youths and maidens, happy boys and girls ; 
Exultant strains of music like the shouts 
Of patriot souls in high prophetic notes; 
Loud pealing bells with wordless joy elate ; 
A mimic war of harsh, discordant sounds. 
With smell of battle-smoke upon the air ; 
The evening sky alight with fluttering fires, 



142 SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

A fairy play of truant suns and stars, 

With arrant rainbows running wild with glee : 

" What mean ye by this service," passing 
strange, 
What would ye tell us by it, ye men, 
Ye sons of noble sires who bought with blood 
This fair, free land, this holy heritage ? 
This be your answer, as your hands unroll 
The scroll of history writ with martyr blood : 
Rehearse again the wondrous story old, 
How banded patriots braved a tyrant 's power, 
And on their country 's altar laid their all, 
That generations yet unborn might be 
The happy heirs of blood-bought Liberty; 
And over all — lest ye forget the thought — 
Cry out and shout, "Behold what God hath 
wrought ! ' ' 



Hymns 



MY PRECIOUS BIBLE. 

Like a star of the morning in its beauty, 
Like a sun is the Bible to my soul ; 

Shining clear on the way of love and duty 
As I hasten on my journey to the goal. 

Chorus. 

Holy Bible ! my precious Bible ! 
Gift of God and lamp of life, 
My beautiful Bible ! 
I will cling to the dear, old Holy Bible 
As I hasten to the city of the King. 

'Tis a light in the wilderness of sorrow. 
And a lamp on the weary pilgrim way; 

And it guides to the bright eternal morning, 
Shining more and more unto the perfect day. 

'Tis the voice of a Friend forever near me 
In the toil and the battle here below; 

As I walk thru the valley it will cheer me. 
Till the glory of His kingdom I shall know. 
ID 143 



144 HYMNS. 

It shall stand in its beauty and its glory, 
When the earth and the heavens pass away ; 

Ever telling the blessed, wondrous story 
Of the loving Lord, the only living way. 



HE WILL COME. 

Yet a little while, and He that shall come will come, 
and will not tarry. — Heb. 10: 37. 



We are waiting in hope for that day. 

When the Lord shall return for His own. 

And the world shall in flames roll away 
From the great, white throne. 

Chorus. 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

He will come ! He will come ! 

He will come ! He will come ! 

Hallelujah ! Amen ! 

II. 

We are waiting the signal to hear, 
When the King, in His glory and might. 

With His angels and saints shall appear, 
In the fadeless light. 



HYMNS. 145 



111. 



We are waiting by night and by day, 
For the light of His face in the sky, 

Still rejoicing in hope while we pray, 
As the daj^s go by. 

IV. 

We are waiting by faith in His word, 
In the promises of ages sublime. 

Clinging close to the hand of the Lord, 
Through the years of time. 



YOUR TREASURES. 

Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of 

them shall be a witness against you Ye have 

heaped treasure together for the last days. — Jas. 5: 3. 

Lay your treasures higher, safer. 

Than the golden stores of men, 
Lest the coming days of trouble 

Sweep them from your keeping them ; 
Send them upward while you have them 

In some noble use to God ; 
Make the world to feel your presence 

Ere you sleep beneath the sod. 

Ere the busy hands are idle, 

Ere the beating heart is still. 
Bring your treasures to the Master, 



146 HYMNS. 

And your vows of love fulfill ; 
Fill your days with loving service ; 

Seek the prize now kept above ; 
So shall you be now and ever, 

Eich in fruits of faith and love. 



MY BIBLE. 

Blessed Bible, book for me, 

Comfort of my heart. 
Bearing light and life to me, 

Never to depart. 
Book of books, I love thee best ; 

Let me clasp thee to my breast. 
I will walk, with sweet delight — 

Ever in thy holy light. 

Blessed Bible, book for all, 

Faithful guide and friend. 
Sounding forth thy welcome call, 

Reaching out thy hand; 
O may all who hear thy cry. 

To the Rock of Refuge fly, 
Ere the light of mercy's day 

Fades in endless night away. 

Blessed Bible, precious word. 

Ever speak to me 
Of my risen, reigning Lord, 



HYMNS. 147 

Till His throne I see. 
Guide my hope to grander heights, 

Nerve my faith for swifter flights; 
Show me more of Jesus ' grace 

Till I see Him face to face. 

TRUSTING IN THE PROMISE. 

Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest. — Mat. 11: 28. 

I have found repose for my weary soul, 
Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 

And a harbor safe when the billows roll, 
Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 

I will fear no foe in the deadly strife, 
Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 

I will bear my lot in the toil of life. 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 

Refrain. 

Resting on His mighty arm forever, 
NeA^er from His loving heart to sever, 

I will rest by grace. 

In His strong embrace, 
Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 

I will sing my song as the days go by. 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 
And rejoice in hope, while I live or die. 



148 HYMNS. 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 
I can smile at grief, and abide in pain, 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 
And the loss of all shall be highest gain. 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 

Oh, the peace and joy of the life I live, 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 
Oh, the strength and grace only God can give, 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 
Whosoever will may be saved to-day, 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour; 
And begin to walk in the holy way. 

Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 

FATHER, LEAD ME. 

Lead me, my Father, lead me, 

All along this desert way; 
And with heav'nly manna feed me, 

As I journey day by day. 
Let Thy glorious presence lighten 

All the darkness of the way. 
Till this earthly life shall brighten 

Into endless, perfect day. 

Thou art rich in grace and blessing ; 

All the stores of heav'n are Thine; 
And in Thee all good possessing, 



HYMNS. 149 

I rejoice that Thou art mine. 
Though my pilgrim way be dreary, 

And my journey hard and long, 
Thou canst make it bright and cheery, 

And all jubilant with song. 

Keep my heart from sad repining, 

With the joy that is in Thee ; 
And, amid the darkness shining, 

Let me still Thy presence see. 
So my life shall tell the story 

Of Thy faithful, loving care, 
Till I see Thee in Thy glory. 

And Thy heav'nly kingdom share. 



HYMN. 

Written for the dedication of St. Paul's Evangelical 
Church of Carlisle. 

Thou exalted, Holy One, 
. Whom all the worlds obey. 
Whose high abode is with the Son, 
In glory's dazzling day. 

We give this holy house to Thee, 

An offering of our love; 
And as we wait, let it be 

Accepted from above. 



150 HYMNS. 

Within these courts, Lord, we pray 
Give light and power divine ; 

Thy glorious presence here display, 
And own this temple Thine. 

When here Thy people call on Thee, 

send them swift reply; 
And show Thy mercy, full and free, 

When weary mourners cry. 

Give triumph to Thy gospel here ; 

Win glory to Thy Name; 
And through the changeful, rolling year 

Thy grace and love proclaim. 



KEEP LOVE CROWNED EVER. 

K. L. C. E. Day hymn. 
Published expressly for use on K. L. C. E. Day, 1905. 

Keep love crowned ever in thy heart — 
The greatest of the graces three — 

The Keystone of the arch of life. 
That binds in strength and unity. 

Keep love crowned ever in the Church — 
The conquering grace that leadeth on 

The League of mighty graces all. 
Until the work of life is done. 



HYMNS. 151 

Keep love crowned ever in thy thought, 
Until by this transfiguring grace 

Thy Christian life shall image forth 
The beauty of thy Saviour's face. 

Keep love crowned ever in thy life — 
The grace supreme that shall inspire 

All thy Endeavor in His Name, 
Till faith and hope in sight expire. 



SOUND IT OUT.* 

Adapted to the music of "Jesus Saves," in Gospel 
Hymns, No. 5. 

Preach salvation, free and full : 
Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

Love of God most wonderful : 
Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

Preach the Gospel, tried and true, 
Tell the story, ever new. 
Of the love that saveth you : 
Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

the gospel of His grace ! 

Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 
Life and peace for all the race : 

Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 



152 HYMNS. 

Tell them, whosoever will 
May the word of grace fulfil, 
And receive remission still: 
Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

Preach the word with burning heart : 

Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 
Offer all this better part : 

Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

Tenderly repeat the call, 

Tell them Jesus died for all, 

Kich and poor, and great and small : 

Sound it out ! Sound it out ! 

*Eev. Daniel Kreamer, of the Illinois Conference, on 
his dying bed, at the age of seventy-six, exhorted his 
ministerial brethren: "0 hretliren, what a wonderful 
gospel! Sound it out! Sound it out!" 



LORD, BLESS WHAT WE HAVE DONE. 

Dear Lord, once more the note of praise 
With grateful hearts to Thee we raise; 
We bring our work to Thee and pray ; 
bless what we have done to-day. 

Thine all-sufficient grace impart 
To every true disciple's heart; 
draw them closer to Thy side, 
That faith and love may still abide. 



HYMNS. 153 

Dear Jesus, lead and keep the youth, 
And sanctify them through Thy truth ; 
The children draw to seek Thy face, 
And fold them in Thy warm embrace. 

Come, Holy Spirit, as we part. 
With light and life to every heart ; 
And lead us by Thy hand of love 
To our eternal home above. 



GRATEFUL PRAISE. 

Gracious Lord, to Thee we raise 
One more note of grateful praise. 
One sweet song from every heart. 
One more prayer before we part. 
Thou everlasting King, 
Now accept the praise we bring ; 
Hear our prayer, and let us be 
One in heart and one in Thee. 

Holy Spirit, while we pray. 
Let Thy word take root to-day ; 
Plant it deep in fruitful soil, 
Let no foes the harvest spoil. 
Now to every waiting heart. 
Thine abundant life impart; 
Give to all, with rich increase. 
Fruits of love and joy and peace. 



154 HYMNS. 

Jesus, now once more we call, 
Let Thy blessing on us fall ; 
Guide us in Thy righteous ways ; 
Keep us by Thy mighty grace. 
Thine, Lord, through endless days, 
Be the glory, might and praise. 
Throned among the heavenly host. 
Father, Son and Holy Ghost ! 

I KNOW I LOVE HIM. 

I know I love my Saviour now, 
As once I knew I loved Him not : 

His hand of love has sealed my vow. 
And fixed my new and blissful lot. 

My faith has found a resting place, 
Whereon my weary soul can lie; 

And peace, and joy, and boundless grace 
Enfold me like a summer sky. 

The storms may come, the sunshine go. 
My Friend will still be true and strong ; 

His hand will wipe the tears that flow. 
And bear my trembling soul along. 

I know I love Him, feel Him mine ; 

He rules my soul with gentle sway ; 
He guides me still in light Divine, 

And bids me wait His crowning day. 



HYMNS. 155 

MY ALL IN ALL. 

Before Thy face, my God, I fall, 
And claim Thee now, my All in all ; 
My soul, with expectation sweet. 
Lies faint and trembling at Thy feet. 

My warrant in Thy Word I seek, — 
I seek, I find, I hear Thee speak ; 
Thy voice my bounding spirit thrills. 
And all my heart with rapture fills. 

The blood of Jesus speaks my peace ; 
I know such love can never cease ; 
I rest on Him, and need no more 
Than Christ, my Lord, forevermore. 

WELCOME, HOLY SPIRIT. 

Holy Ghost, I welcome Thee, 

With all my heart of love. 
For Thou art come with gifts for me 

For my dear Lord above. 

Come in, blest Spirit, and reveal 

My absent Lord in me; 
Come, testif 3^ of Him, and seal 

His word of truth to me. 



156 HYMNS. 

Bring some love tokens, fresh and sweet, 
From His own hand to me, 

While onward still, with eager feet, 
I haste His face to see. 



"GO FORWARD!" 

Forward in the name of Jesus, 
Let us go at His command, 

One in mind and heart and purpose, 
Guided by His mighty hand. 

Forward in the faith of Jesus, 
In the Holy Spirit's power, 

Without Him we can do nothing. 
With Him, triumph every hour. 

Forward in the love of Jesus, 
As the stewards of His grace, 

Seeking only His approval. 
As we go before His face. 

Forward, with the mind of Jesus, 
Counting everything but loss. 

So we may but win His favor, 
Glorying in His crimson cross. 



HYMNS. 157 

Forward with the conquering Jesus, 
One in faith and hope and love, 

Forward till the war is over. 
And will reis'n with Him above. 



HE IS FAITHFUL. 

Never can the word be broken, 
Long ago Jehovah vowed. 

When He set His friendly token 
On the dark and murky cloud. 

In the stormy gloom of sorrows, 
In the darkest days of woe. 

In the fear of sad to-morrows ; 
We shall see His shining bow. 

After grief shall come the gladness ; 

Joy and pleasure after pain ; 
Tearless rapture after sadness ; 

Blessed sunshine after rain. 

Still His rainbow is the token 
Of a grace that must prevail ; 

Of a promise never broken. 
And a love that cannot fail. 



158 HYMNS. 

WE GO TO PRAY AND LABOR. 

We praise Thee, gracious Father, 

For Thine abounding grace, 
Thy never-failing presence, 

The sunshine of Thy face. 
We praise Thee for Thy guidance — 

In all our labors here. 
Thy gracious inspiration 

And all Thy heavenly cheer. 

Now seal with Thine approval 

What we have done for Thee, 
And light the steps of duty 

In ways we could not see. 
send us forth anointed. 

As witnesses for Thee, 
To preach Thy great salvation, 

To set the captives free. 

We go to pray, and labor. 

And wait, another year, 
Content, whate'er befalls us. 

If only Thou art near ! 
We cannot go without Thee ; 

The way we cannot know; 
let Thy mighty presence 

Before Thy servants go ! 



HYMNS. 159 

GO FORTH AGAIN. 

Go forth again, ye men of God, 

Each to his field of toil; 
In Jesus' name, for His dear sake, 

To gather precious spoil. 

Go forth with fresh anointing, go 

With newly-kindled zeal. 
With joy and gladness, bearing still 

The Spirit's holy seal. 

Go forth to scatter precious seed, 

To gather in the grain ; 
In faith, and hope, and courage, go ; 

Ye shall not toil in vain. 

Ye may not longer tarry here ; 

For, 0, the work is great ; 
The fields are white, the reapers few. 

And ripened harvests wait. 

MEETING OF GOD'S SERVANTS. 

Once more, Lord, assembling. 

In Thy dear name we meet 
As toilers in Thy vineyard. 

To worship at Thy feet. 
We come with joy and gladness, 
II 



160 HYMNS. 

With gratitude and praise, 
Rejoicing in Thy goodness, 
That crowns our fleeting days. 

Thy mighty hand has brought us 

In safety through the year. 
Preserved our "feet from falling," 

And kept us in Thy fear. 
Thy grace has been sufficient. 

Thy promise never failed ; 
And in the days of conflict 

Through Thee we have prevailed! 

Now, gracious Father, meet us. 

And in our midst abide ; 
In word and work direct us, 

And over all preside. 
Baptize us with Thy Spirit ; 

Our hearts with love inflame ; 
And all that is Mdthin us 

Shall bless Thy holy name. 



THANKFULNESS FOR BLESSINGS. 

We come with the cup of salvation. 
To call on the name of the Lord, 

And gratefully bring our oblation, 
With cheerful and loving accord. 



HYMNS. 161 

Refrain. 

We thank Thee, dear Father, we thank Thee, 
For blessings in basket and store. 

For peace and for safety we thank Thee ; 
Thy mercy and love we adore. 

We come with rejoicing and gladness, 
And break from the bondage of care, 

Forgetting the grief and the sadness. 
We often too willingly bear. 

We join with the voice of the nation, 
That bends at Thine altars to pray ; 

Our eyes have beheld Thy salvation 
In many a perilous day. 

With mountain, and valley, and river, 
And fruitful domain we will raise 

Our hearts to the bountiful Giver, 
In ceaseless ascriptions of praise. 



MY GOD, FOEGET ME NOT. 

My Father, I have loved Thy truth ; 
Thou wast my Guide in early youth 
Thy hand in safety led me on 
In wondrous ways I had not known. 



162 HYMNS. 

I knew no want, and felt no fear, 
With Thee my kind Provider near ; 
Strong was my hand, and brave my heart, 
To do my work, and act my part. 

But now the fire of youth is dead ; 
The snows of age are on my head ; 
Mine eyes are dim ; and faint and slow 
My feeble, faltering footsteps go. 

The friends and days of youth are gone, 
And I, alas ! am left alone ; 
Mine is an aged pilgrim 's lot ; 

God, my God, forget me not ! 

1 bow submissive to Thy will ; 
Thou art my God and Father still ; 
And now, when I am old and gray, 
I rest on Thee, my Staff and Stay. 

THERE IS JOY IN HEAVEN. 

There is joy in heaven where the angels dwell, 
And the gladsome notes of rejoicing swell. 
When the tidings come from the world below. 
That a soul is saved from eternal woe. 

Chorus. 

Beautiful song, beautiful song, 
Beautiful song, beautiful song of joy ! 



HYMNS. 163 

Every harp is attuned unto the sound, 
And the angels rejoice that the lost is found ; 
Beautiful song, beautiful song of joy. 

There is joy in heaven when the lost is found 
And the golden streets with the news resound, 
Till the tide of song like an ocean rolls 
Unto Him who died for the love of souls. 

There is joy in heaven, that begins below. 
Where the tears of grief and repentance flow ; 
And the saints of God with the angels share 
In the praise that rings like an anthem there. 



HIDING IN THE ROCK. 

In the Rock of Ages hiding, 
I have found a sure retreat ; 

In the Refuge now abiding, 
I have found a joy complete. 

Chorus. 

While the storm around me rages, 
And the angry billows roar, 

I am hiding in the Rock of Ages, 
I am safe forever more. 

In the Rock of Ages resting, 
I enjoy a sweet repose, 



164 HYMNS. 

Where the grace of God forever, 
Like a mighty river flows. 

In the Rock of Ages trusting, 
I am kept in perfect peace, 

In the hope of glory waiting. 
Till the toil of life shall cease. 

SAFE IN JESTJS. 

At the feet of Jesus lying 

Once I prayed in anguish sore ; 

Now His own right hand sustains me, 
With His strength I faint no more. 

Chorus. 

Safe in Jesus now abiding, 
I can smile at all my foes; 

Safe in Jesus, safe in Jesus, 
how sweet is my repose. 

On His loving breast reclining, 
I shall fail and fall no more ; 

Lo, He whispers, I am with thee, 
Till thy days of toil are o'er. 

With the natal conflict nearing, 

I am free from all alarm; 
Lo, the Conqueror stands beside me; 

He will keep my soul from harm. 



Miscellaneous 



ACROSTIC— SELF-DENIAL. 

Seek thou to walk with Christ the narrow way, 
Enduring all for His dear sake alway. 
Look unto Him who, though He was so rich, 
For thy sake poor became, to make thee rich. 

Deny thou then thyself with grateful love, 
Enriched with grace abounding from above ; 
Nor fail in measure full thy tithes to bring 
Into the ample storehouse of thy King ; 
And from Heaven's open windows He will pour 
Love's riches till thy heart can hold no more! 



SHOW THY GLORY. 

I fly for rest and refuge 
To the shelter of Thy love : 

I beseech Thee show Thy glory, 
As it shines for those above. 

165 



166 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Nearer, nearer, I behold Thee ; 

Faith is clear where sense is blind : 
Nearer, dearer, I approach Thee, 

And the heart outstrips the mind. 

Thou altogether lovely, 
Fairer than the mellow moon 

Rising in my spirit 's twilight 
Like the sun of golden noon. 

Now I know Thee, for I love Thee ! 
Ah ! Thy sweet name is love ! 

1 can know Thy love in loving, 
Like the holy ones above. 



A LOOK BEYOND. 

Beyond life's darkening sunset skies 
Dawns Heaven's eternal day, 

Where Hope's ecstatic visions rise 
To cheer our pilgrim way. 

We grow by high and holy thought ; 

* ' We live in deeds, not years ' ' ; 
And life's enduring work is wrought 

In pain, and toil, and tears. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 167 

Between us and the highest goal 
Are fears, and storms, and gloom, 

And glory's crown awaits the soul 
Only beyond the tomb. 

There shall we know the crowning grace 
Of all the glorified. 
When with the \asion of His Face 
We shall be satisfied. 



HE KNOWS BEST. 

Let Jesus save thee : surely He knows best 
How great the curse, how deep the woe of sin : 

Believe, obey, and He will do the rest. 
And so thy faith eternal life shall win. 

Let Jesus lead thee : surely He knows best 
The way of safety for thy ransomed soul. 

Walk where He leads, and trust Him for the rest, 
And He will bring thee to thy highest goal. 

Let Jesus help thee : surely He knows best 
What is thy strength, and what thy toil and 
need. 

Do what thou canst, and leave to Him the rest, 
And He will make thy trust thy noblest deed. 



168 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Let Jesus teach thee : surely He knows best 
What thou doest need to learn to make thee 
wise. 

Receive what He makes plain, and leave the rest 
Till thou shalt gain the everlasting prize. 

Let Jesus keep thee : surely He knows best 
What hidden dangers lie along the way. 

Go, watch and fight and pray, and leave the rest, 
To Him who is thy everlasting stay. 



ACT FOR TO-DAY— TRUST FOR TO-MORROW. 

The sky was bright on yesternight, 
With silvery moon and stars of light ; 
To-night a storm is raging high. 
And blackness broods upon the sky. 

The stars are quenched, the moon is dead. 
The world lies chill in quaking dread, — 
Alas ! what shall the morrow bring 
From underneath night's raven wing? 

The morrow 1 O thou fearful heart. 
Act but to-day thy little part, 
The burden of the present bear, 
And leave to God the morrow 's care. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 169 

His hand controls, with grace sublime, 
The ebb and flow of life and time, 
And He, from gloom of darkest night. 
Shall bring thee forth to noonday light. 

Kest in the Lord, and patient wait 

For Him who never can be late ; 

Trust Him whose love thy heart has known, 

He never can forget His own ! 



LIVING THE CHRIST LIFE. 

"I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet 
not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now 
live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, 
who loved me, and gave Himself for me. ' ' — Paul 's ex- 
perience, Gal. 3: 20. 

I live, I live, who once was doomed to die ; 
I live, and yet not I, 

But He who gave His life to make me free, 
Christ Jesus, lives in me. 

I live ! Yes, quickened by His life, I live ; 
In Christ, my life, I live, 
And death can never reach with sting of sin 
This blessed life within. 

Thus, hid with Christ in God, my sheltered life 
Shall rest from carnal strife, 



170 MISCELLANEOUS. 

And learn to know the secret of the Lord 
Within His living Word. 

Oh, blessed life of faith, and hope, and love, 
So like that life above ; 

To rest, complete in Him, with boundless grace, 
In love's secure embrace. 

Now faith and hope with kindling ardor burn 
For our dear Lord 's return ; 
Still waiting for that hope that comes apace — 
The vision of His face. 

And then when He who is my Life appears, 
To close earth 's toilsome years, 
And I appear in glory by His side, 
I shall be satisfied. 



OUE LAMP OF LIFE. 

Thy Word is my Lamp. Thou hast given it me, 
To lighten my way unto Heaven and Thee ; 
A lamp that shall burn till the night pass away, 
And darkness be lost in the glory of day. 

Thy Word is my Lamp. In its beautiful light 
In safety I walk through the storm and the night. 
No power of evil can take it away, 
No storm can extinguish its heavenly ray. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 171 

Thy Word is my Lamp. It revealeth to me 
The riches of grace that are treasured in Thee, 
The fullness of blessing abundant and free, 
The promise of glory for me, even me. 

Thy Word is my Lamp. I adore Thee, my God, 
For its comfort and cheer in the path I have trod. 
make me to walk in its light all the way. 
Till endetli my night in the breaking of day. 



ONE SOWETH, ANOTHER REAPETH. 

With faith and love sublime, long years ago. 
Unsought of men, ' ' a sower went forth to sow. ' ' 
On desert fields he scattered wide the seed. 
Though none would help, and all decried the 

deed. 
He wearied not until his work was done. 
Then passed away in peace at set of sun. 
Content to die without the cheering sight 
Of harvests ripening in the golden light. 
Assured that other hands in coming years 
Should reap the fields he watered with his tears. 

Almost forgot of men, the sower slept. 
As 'er his grave the slow-born seasons crept ; 
But God remembered, and He watched the seed, 
In His own time to glorify the deed. 



172 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Lo now, at last, the reaping time is come. 
And happy reapers shout the Harvest Home ! 



READY FOR THE MASTER'S USE. 

As you, like gentle Mary, wait at Jesus' blessed 

feet. 
With open heart, to hear His voice, in accents 

low and sweet, 
Or, like the anxious Martha there, encumbered 

with her care. 
You strive to serve the Master for the love to 

Him you bear, 

Be always ready still, to wait, or labor, at His 

word. 
And count no time, or toil, or care too precious 

for your Lord, 
Nor any costly sacrifice too great for love like 

His, 
With all its present recompense and future joy 

and bliss. 

Whatever He commands He will enable you to 

do 
And every path He bids you tread, His hand will 

lead you through ; 
So let Him choose your daily lot and guide your 

steps alway, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 173 

And by His grace your strength shall be accord- 
ing to your day. 



**HE KNOWETH THE WAY THAT I TAKE." 

Job 23: 10. 

In mercy God veileth the future ; 

The secrets of life are His own ; 
And ever the feet of His loved ones 

Are treading a pathway unknown. 

Yet ever He walketh beside them, 
And ever His hand doth uphold, 

And ever His wings overshadow, 
And ever His love will enfold. 

Then trust Him, thou burdened believer ; 
Take heed to the words that He spake ; 
Encourage thy heart with this comfort : 
''He knoweth the way that I take." 

THE AGES TO COME. 

Eph. 2 : 7. 

The ages to come are the ages foretold 
In sealed-up previsions by prophets enscrolled. 
Till Christ in His own time shall open the seal 
And unto His own the great secret reveal. 



174 MISCELLANEOUS. 

The ages to come are the ages of peace, 
When war 's bloody frenzies forever shall cease, 
And, fashioned anew, shall the sword and the 

spear 
For service in tillage and vintage appear. 

The ages to come are the ages of light, 
When all the dark brood of the sinister night 
In panic of terror shall vanish in flight, 
And faith be transformed into rapturous sight. 

The ages to come are the ages of life — 
Abundant, eternal, all-conquering life — 
And hades and death at the last shall expire. 
Cast into the sea of unquenchable fire. 

The ages to come are the ages of love. 
Secured by the law of the kingdom above. 
Where envy and malice and hate are unknown, 
And glory-crowned love reigns supreme on the 
throne. 

The ages to come are the ages of grace, 
Transcendently rich in the heavenly place — 
Grace God in His Son will reveal to His own. 
When seated in glory with Him on His throne. 

The ages to come ! What a glory they hold ! 
What wonders of wisdom and love to unfold ! 



MISCELLANEOUS. 175 

What kindness and pity and wonderful grace, 
When Jesus unveileth His beautiful face ! 

The ages to come, with their marvels untold, 
We see them on scrolls of the prophets unrolled, 
And gladly we greet them by faith from afar. 
As wise men of old hailed the Bethlehem Star ! 

The ages to come are awaiting Thy word : 
O, when wilt Thou usher them in, blessed Lord ? 
In patience of hope we are watching for Thee 
Thy groaning Creation from bondage to free. 



GOD BLESS OUR BOYS AND GIRLS! 

God bless our boys, our soldier boys! 

The mother's joy, the father's pride! 
In faith we give them up to Thee, 

Their hearts to keep, their steps to guide, 
To shield them in temptation's hour. 
And guard them with almighty power. 

God bless our boys, our noble boys ! 

Our dearest, strongest, bravest, best ! 
Our hearts go with them as they go 

To meet life 's fiery, crucial test. 
Father ! keep them pure and true. 
And make them strong to dare and do ! 



176 MISCELLANEOUS. 

God bless our boys, our patriot boys ! 

At Freedom's high behest they go, 
Beneath the Banner of the Stars, 

With hearts aflame, to front the foe, 
And if we do not pray in vain, 
bring them back to us again ! 

God bless and keep and save our boys ! 

And if to some may come the call, 
In camp, on field, at battle front. 

To yield in sacrifice their all. 
That Freedom's highest goal be won. 
Still must we say, ' ' Thy will be done ! ' ' 

And still we pray, God bless our girls ! 

They, too, have heard the cry of need. 
Have heard their country's pleading call. 
And answered too, in word and deed, 
And on their loving hearts they bear 

The burden of the Crimson Cross, 
Content to suffer and to serve, 

And for the Cross count all things loss. 

God bless our girls, our own sweet girls ! 

The light of home, the charm of life ! 
The wingless ministering angels oft 

To heal the wounds of woeful strife. 
God bless them, keep them, make them strong 

To do or bear, to go or stay, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 177 

That all their service may be done 
As unto Thee, Christ, we pray. 

"0 JERUSALEM! JERUSALEM!" 

Mat. 23: 37, 39. 

Once again we behold "Jerusalem compassed with 
armies" (Lu. 21:20), not enemies for its destruction, 
but friends for its deliverance from Turkish power. 

' ' A scheme for the looting of Jerusalem is already 
being executed, and throughout the countryside the Turk 
has embarked on a calculated policy of plundering and 
killing the native inhabitants, so that if they are forced 
to vacate the country they will leave behind them a 
desert. ' ' — New York Times. 

Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Alas! the royal diadem 

Is fallen from thy queenly brow ! 

Discrowned, forsaken, widowed now, 

Who would not grieve and weep for thee ? 

Zion, thou wast once so free. 

So fair, so beautiful, so strong; 

Thy hilltops rang with joyous song. 

And glory, wealth, and power were thine. 

But now thy sons in exile pine, 

Thy weeping daughters, where are they, 

In this thy long, dark, evil day? 

The silent, waving clouds of doom 
That slowly gathered wrathful gloom. 
And round thy hills in menace- hung. 
For many a day their shadows flung 



178 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Across thy stately palace halls 
And proud, defiant, temple walls ; 
From prophet lips in words of flame 
Jehovah 's awful warnings came ; 
Long years of patient, boundless love 
The vengeful sword hung sheathed above, 
While martyr blood cried up to God 
From altar, street, and trampled sod. 
Then last, the fateful warning fell 
From Him who vanquished death and hell. 

That touching scene who can forget, 
When on the slopes of Olivet 
The patient Saviour wept for thee 
Because thou wouldst not hear nor see. 
Nor hide thee from the coming woes 
Whose nameless, gathering horrors rose 
In awful vision, dark and dread. 
Around thy proud, unbending head. 

Thy day of proffered mercy came, 
And ended in devouring flame. 
God 's age-long, pent-up, fiery wrath 
Swept fiercely down the open path 
That prophet feet had trodden long. 
Through weary years of suffered wrong. 
And now upon thy blasted hills 
Thy mournful tale the ages thrills ; 
Thy every riven stone appears 
A witness to the passing years, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 179 

With warning voice proclaiming still : 
* ' Man cannot thwart Jehovah 's will ; 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away, 
His Word shall never pass away ! ' ' 



Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 
Behold the royal diadem ! 
On high the Son of David stands 
And holds it in His pierced hands ! 
With patient love He waits the day 
When thy repentant sons shall say : 
'Blessed is He" — of heavenly fame — 
■ That cometh in Jehovah 's name ! ' ' 
For lo ! the day is drawing near 
When once again He shall appear, 
His ancient promise to fulfill, 
To reign on Zion 's Holy Hill, 
And He will bring thy diadem, 
Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 
So lift thy drooping head on high, 
For thy redemption draweth nigh ! 



K. L. C. E. 

Keep thou the trust that Jesus gives ; 
Live unto Him who for thee lives ; 
Count all things loss for His dear name ; 
Endure the cross, despising shame. 



180 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Keep faith with Jesus, day by day ; 
Look for His guidance all the way ; 
Commit to Him thy life, thy all, 
Each moment ready for His call. 

Kept by the power of God above; 
Loved with an everlasting love; 
Crowned with His mercy full and free ; 
Eternal glory thine shall be ! 



ECHOES OF A SONG. 

All the day long in my memory 

Rings the echo of a song ; 
Like the strain of martial music 

Rolls the melody along. 

Silent now the glorious singer 

From whose burning heart it came, 

But the world will long remember 
Russell Lowell's honored name. 

This the strain that thrills and haunts me, 

Coming, going, all the day. 
Like a prophet voice repeating 

What the Lord had bid him say : 

' Careless seems the Great Avenger ; 
History 's pages but record 



MISCELLANEOUS. 181 

One death grapple in the darkness 

'Twixt old systems and the word ; 
Truth forever on the scaffold, 

Wrong forever on the throne — 
Yet that scaffold sways the future, 

And behind the dim unknown 
Standeth God within the Shadow, 

Keeping watch above His own." 

Sweet the music, and inspiring 

Is the poet prophet's song. 
Cheering on the fainting spirit 

In the conflict with the wrong. 

Brothers, hear it ! Brothers, heed it ! 

For its message is to you, 
Standing in the front of battle. 

Brave and faithful, tried and true. 

East Northfield, Mass., April 22. 

THE HOARY HEAD. 

' ' You 're growing old, " to me my neighbor said, 
"I see the wintry frost is falling on your head." 

I answer him, Your eyes are quite misled ; 
This is not frost you see upon my head ; 
The flowering of old age it is in truth, 
The radiant f oregleam of eternal youth. 



182 MISCELLANEOUS. 

It is the sifting down of heaven 's white light, 
Like silvery star dust of earth 's little night, 
A cheery token that my upward way 
Draws very near the morn of Endless Day, 



THE WAVES OF TIME. 

The years of time, they are but foam-capped 

waves 
That roll across a deep, unresting sea 
Vast as eternity, wave upon wave, 
Swept ever onward by the winds of God, 
They rise and fall, they break and foam and fly 
Beneath an ever changing, bending sky. 

They turn not back, these rolling waves of time ; 
They rest not, tarry not ; they bear us on, 
Through light and dark, upon the moaning sea, 
Swept ever onward by the winds of God. 
And ever on the far horizon line 
We see the swift receding beacons shine. 

We cannot tell, 'tis best we may not know 

How long, how far, these winds of God shall 

blow. 
But some day, when the Lord God deemeth best, 
The moaning sea shall rock itself to rest. 
Nor wind, nor foaming wave of time shall be 
For He hath said, ' ' There shall be no more sea ! ' ' 



MISCELLANEOUS. 183 

TRUSTFUL, STRONG AND BRAVE. 

Trust thou in God ! 

No trusting heart was ever put to shame. 
God's love and truth and grace of ancient fame, 
To latest generations still the same. 
Must vindicate the honor of His name. 
Trust thou in God ! 

Be strong and brave ! 

No coward heart God 's will can dare and do. 
Nor weakling fight His glorious battles through. 
He calls thee : be courageous, strong and true. 
Fear not. He wins, by many or by few. 
Be strong and brave ! 



GOD WILL ANSWER "WHY?" 

O this is not the world Jehovah made 
And crowned with His approving "Very 

good," 
For lo, the whole creation, wrenched and torn, 
In wordless anguish writhes and groans in 

pain, 
And on our startled ears God 's verdict falls : 
■ An enemy hath done this dastard deed ! ' ' 

Who can escape so vast a ruin wrought. 
Involving "bud and bird and deer and man," 



184 MISCELLANEOUS. 

And even Him, the glorious Son of God, 
Brought down to earth, to walk with bleeding 

feet 
And breaking heart the thorn-cursed paths of 

men — 
A Man of Sorrows in a world of woe. 

why must "bud and bird and deer and 

man ' ' 
Be rent and torn in elemental strife ? 
Why must we here the bread of sorrows eat, 
And drink the brimming cup of bitter tears ? 
Why must one wail and "weep Farewell, 

Farewell!" 
Why ever "one unmated croon alone," 
And why "one beg for but the crumbs of 

love," 
While others joy in all that heart can wish? 

Great is the mystery of God, a vast, 
Unfathomable deep no eye can pierce, 
And though ' ' deep calleth unto deep ' ' afar. 
No answer comes from out the silent void. 
In God 's great heart the final answer waits, 
Until the years of time their course have run. 
When heaven and earth and hell shall see and 

know 
That He who made us "hath done all things 

well." 



MISCELLANEOUS. 185 

This do we know — for Christ Himself hath 

said, 
And with His life and death confirmed for 

aye — 
Except a grain of wheat fall in the ground 
And perish there, it must abide alone, 
But if it die, from that death-travail soon 
Abundant life shall bring its rich reward. 
And in the joy of harvest, rich and full. 
The pangs of death shall be forgot for aye. 

* ' Go thou thy way until the end, ' ' for then 
' ' The mystery of God ' ' shall finished be : 

The countless wrongs of earth shall be made 
right 

In that New World that in His own good time 

The fiat of Jehovah shall create. 

When once again the Morning Stars shall sing. 

And all the sons of God shall shout for joy. 

THE HEART'S THANKSGIVING. 

Lord, in the wondrous rhythm of life which Thou 
sustainest. 
Let all my throbbing pulses beat a sweet re- 
frain. 
Rejoicing that though all things fail me, Thou 
remainest. 
My satisfying Portion, my eternal Gain. 



186 MISCELLANEOUS. 

AND BE YE THANKFUL. 

This day be thankful, be it dark or fair ; 
Make thine own atmosphere of praise and 

prayer ; 
Create thy sunshine in thy grateful heart, 
And in thy Lord 's own presence dwell apart. 

FAITHFUL. 

My child, be faithful in thy work to-day ; 
Repose in God, and wait and watch and pray, 
So He will be thy constant Guide and Stay. 

Do thou thy little work that nearest lies ; 
And do it all for God 's approving eyes ; 
For He will keep thy record in the skies. 

Keep thou each little trust with holy care; 
Let every moment its own burden bear ; 
And in thy lot with patient love forbear, 

Each sunny smile, and gracious look and tone. 
Each loving word and deed, thy God will own, 
And count them o 'er as jewels in His throne. 

Be thou content to sow thy little seeds. 

And pluck with patient hands the tares and 

weeds, 
While others reap and do the mighty deeds. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 187 

LORD, HOW LONG? 
I. 

Swift the endless stream of souls 
Onward through the ages rolls ; 
And the generations fly, 
Like the clouds across the sky : 

Wilt Thou tarry. Lord? How long? 
O Lord, how long? 

II. 

Through the long and weary years, 
We have watched for Thee with tears ; 
And the fires of hope still burn 
On Thy promise of return. 

Wilt Thou tarry. Lord? How long? 
Lord, how long? 

III. 

Earth is faint with toil and pain, 
Till her Lord returns again; 
And her eyes are unto Thee, 
Till Thy coming make her free. 

Wilt Thou tarry, Lord? How long? 
Lord, how long? 

IV. 

Unto Thee the martyrs cried 
For Thy coming, ere they died ; 



188 MISCELLANEOUS. 

And beneath Thy altar-throne 
Still they cry to Thee alone : 

Wilt Thou tarry, Lord? How long? 
Lord, how long? 

V. 

While the ages watch and wait 
By the prophet's golden gate. 
And Thy Bride along the way 
Yearns for Thee, by night and day : 
Wilt Thou tarry. Lord? How long? 
Lord, how long? 

THE HARVEST PASSING— PAST. 

The harvest is passing, the summer is ending, 
Soon, soon, the bright days will be o'er; 

And still in the shadows the idlers are standing 
Unheeding the fast-failing store. 

The reapers unresting are eagerly hasting 

To gather and garner the grain ; 
Yet still the poor mockers are recklessly wasting 

The days that return not again. 

***** 

The harvest is past and the summer is ended ! 

The reapers have gathered the grain ! 
Alas ! on the field, in despair, empty-handed, 

The idlers are crying in vain ! 



MISCELLANEOUS. 189 

GOD IS MOST NEAR. 

What though thy little narrowing world of life 
Should wildly rage with elemental strife, 
Though all thy days thy sky be overcast, 
And heart and flesh should fail thee at the last. 
Be not dismayed, but sing thy song of cheer, 
In darkest moments God is aye most near. 

WHEAT OR TARES? 

Mat. 13: 36-43. 

Let both grow together until the harvest; and in the 
time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye to- 
gether first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn 
them; but gather the wheat into my barn. — Mat. 13: 30. 

Precious wheat and worthless tares 

Grow together here below ; 
Sun and rain alike are theirs, 

Summer heat and winter snow. 

Let them in the field abide, 

Waiting for the reaper's hand; 

Let them ripen side by side, 
As the Master gave command. 

Are you tares, or are you wheat? 
Fit for glory, or for shame? 



190 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Ripening in the summer's heat, 
For the garner or the flame? 

When the growing time is past, 
When the Lord the end declares, 

What will you be at the last, 

Garnered wheat, or burning tares ? 



In Memoriam 



MY MOTHER'S DAY. 

Just thirty years ago this day, this ' ' Mother 's 

Day,'' 
When duty's urgent voice had called me far 

away, 
There came a message from my childhood 

home that said, 
' Your mother 's dead ! " I hear it yet — ' ' Your 

mother 's dead ! ' ' 

I came. She did not rise to greet me as before ; 
She did not come to meet me at the open door. 
The weary hands lay still upon her pulseless 

breast : 
I knew at last the dear old mother was at rest. 

But this I also knew, that she who loved me so, 
Was living, loving still in love 's rich overflow : 
For I had heard again my Lord's triumphant 

cry: 
'All they that live, believing Me, shall never 

die." 
Not of the dead but of the living He is Grod, 

13 191 



192 IN MEMORIAM. 

Though now awhile their bodies lie beneath 
the sod. 

Oh, no ! she is not dead ! She only went away ! 

Not on a furlough, to retrace the toilsome way. 

For all her work was done. She went away to 
stay. 

That was my "Mother's Day" — her Corona- 
tion Day ! 



TO MY DEPARTED FRIEND, REV. M. J. 
CAROTHERS. 

Who fell asleep in Jesus, at Newville, Pa., March 18, 
1897. 

thou dear friend and brother of us all. 
Gone from thy earthly home a little way. 

Thou wilt not grieve that we should speak to 
thee. 
Before we lay thy sacred dust away ! 

We mourn that we shall see thy face no more 
Among these long familiar scenes below ; 

For thou hast left thy tabernacle clay. 

And entered in where all the ransomed go. 

If thou dost hear us in thy blest abode, 

Sure thou our faltering words wilt under- 
stand, 



IN MEMORIAM. 193 

And know that in our love for thee we speak, 
As though still face to face and hand in 
hand. 

We think of thee and thine in other years, 
Of happy days that in the memory glow. 

And backward gaze, as through a mist of tears, 
On scenes of life we never more shall know. 

We see thee, like some lofty, towering oak, 
Or massive cedar, or majestic palm; 

Or, like a pillar in the house of God, 

That stands erect alike in storm and calm. 

We see thee in thy manly strength and grace, 
Aglow with vigor and athrill with life, 

A mighty champion of the Lord of hosts, 
A trusted leader in the holy strife. 

We hear thy vibrant voice, thy trumpet tones. 
In thrilling song and mighty gospel call. 

While saints rejoice and sinners trembling cry, 
Till Christ reveals Himself, their All in all. 

We see thee on thy happy fields of toil. 

With sweet delight Christ's easy yoke to 
bear; 

We hear thy song, ' ' His cross I will not fear, ' ' 
And evermore ' 'His name I will declare. ' ' 



194 IN MEMORIAM. 

We see how like a rock-tow 'r thou dost stand, 
True to thy God, thy Church, thy trusting 
friends, 
Serene and firm in trial's darkest hours. 
Holding the standard with thy faithful 
hands. 

We see thee too as dread afflictions come. 
And break thy strong frame as a mighty 
tree 

Is broken b^^ the sudden tempest shock : 
But lo, thy faith endures triumphantly. 

We see thee in thy sunset hours of life, 
With gentle hands to minister to thee. 

And tender, loving hearts to gird thee round, 
Like angels in their guardian ministry. 

Thou knew'st thy God, and in His love and 
grace 
Thy burdened heart did rest in perfect 
peace. 
Content to labor, or to wait, until 

The evening time should bring thee sweet 
release. 

Dear brother, friend ! We J03" with thee to- 
day, 
For thou hast overcome and gained thy rest, 



IN MEMORIAM. 195 

And through the years thy works shall follow 
thee, 
To swell thy rapturous joy among the blest. 

Farewell, beloved ! Enter thy Master 's joy ! 

Greet all the waiting dear ones gone before ! 
And think sometimes, in that bright world of 
bliss, 
Of those who love thee here and miss thee 
sore ! 

' And when we all get home, ' ' at last, at last, 
''Around our Father's throne," a "happy 
throng, ' ' 
We'll sing with thee "where myriads join the 
theme, ' ' 
And through the endless years the strains 
prolong ! 

AT BISHOP SEYBERT'S GRAVE. 

I seek not in this lowly bed 

This man of God among the dead. 

He is not here — he lives on high ; 

For such as he can never die. 

Nor cease to speak, through coming years, 

To human loves and hopes and fears. 

Here only lies the sacred dust 

Of one who kept his Master 's trust, — 



196 IN MEMORIAM. 

A faithful servant, tried and true, 
Who bravely fought life's battles through, 
And rested not till set of sun 
Proclaimed his work forever done. 

His heart was wed to one dear Name ; 
Nor wealth, nor ease, nor earthly fame, 
Nor scorn of men, nor hellish hate. 
Could move him from that blest estate. 
His life was hid with Christ in God, 
Like planted seed beneath the sod. 

Dear man of God ! Kind, gentle soul ! 
How brave in love 's supreme control ! 
How swift to do his Master 's will. 
His holy mission to fulfill ! 
How he could suffer and be strong. 
And cheer the way with joyous song ! 

In faith and hope he toiled below, — 
A sower sent from God to sow: 
The precious seed he scattered wide. 
Then "fell on sleep" at eventide. 
The Lord of harvests watched His own. 
And others reap where he has sown. 

Pie saw beyond the toil and strife 
The rest, the home, the crown of life ! 
His victory won, his labor done. 



IN MEMORIAM. 197 

His works of love still follow on; 
And one by one his "stars" shall rise 
Beyond these darkening sunset skies. 



NOW, LET ME GO!" 

Father Roland, a venerable Evangelical saint, lay 
dying at the age of eighty-one years. Just as he was about 
to depart and be with Christ, he stretched out his feeble 
old hands to those standing around his bed, and ex- 
claimed, ' ' Now let me go ! " and he was gone. 

' ' Now, let me go ! " 
I hear my loving Saviour call; 
I see the evening shadows fall ; 
At last my earthly work is done, 
Beneath the circle of the sun. 

Now, let me go ! 

Now, let me go ! 
The dreams and hopes of youth are dead ; 
The snows of age are on my head ; 
The friends of other days are gone, 
And I am lingering here alone ! 

Now, let me go ! 

Now, let me go ! 
My course is run ; my days are past ; 
I 've fought the fight unto the last ; 
I Ve kept the faith, and now I see 



198 IN MEMORIAM. 

The crown of life that waits for me ! 
Now, let me go ! 

Now, let me go ! 
'Tis lonely on this earthly shore ! 
My loved ones long have gone before ! 
Their faces dear I yearn to see, 
And where they dwell, I want to be ! 

Now, let me go ! 

Now, let me go ! 
I feel the power of Jesus ' grace ! 
I see the vision of His face ! 
My fears before His presence flee ; 
His rod and stai¥ they comfort me. 

Now, let me go ! 

MEMORIAL LINES. 

Written on receiving the news of the death of Eev. C. F. 
Deininger, July 17, 1888. 

Well done, thou faithful servant of thy Lord ! 
Well done ! Take from His hand thy rich re- 
ward! 
The toil, the strife, the weary hours of pain. 
All ended now in everlasting gain ! 

Thou art a soldier, fallen on the field ; 
With helmet on, and burnished sword and 
shield ; 



IN MEMORIAM. 199 

Not stricken down and broken with defeat ; 
Not beaten back in flight and in retreat ; 
But true and faithful, 'mid the marching host, 
Thy Master found thee, watching at thy post ! 
And thou art ' ' more than conqueror, ' ' to-day. 
Through Him that loved and kept thee all the 
way. 

Farewell, dear friend and comrade in the strife ! 
We praise our God for thy victorious life ! 
We praise Him for the labor thou hast done. 
For hearts made glad, for precious trophies won ! 
For souls brought in from darkness into light. 
To dwell with God and walk with Him in white. 

Farewell ! A little while farewell, dear friend. 
Till we shall clasp again thy faithful hand ! 
We think of thee, not in the grave below. 
Beneath the summer bloom and winter snow; 
Not lone and silent, in a lowly bed ; 
Not far from those who love — not dead ! not 

dead! 
But only absent here — gone on before, 
With ransomed millions on the unseen shore. 
And while we gaze upon thy silent clay, 
Lo, thou art present with thj^ Lord to-day! 

Farewell ! Our love shall keep thy memory 
green, 



200 IN MEMORIAM. 

Till we, too, leave this fading, earthly scene ! 
Farewell! Fond hearts will miss thee every- 
where ! 
But heaven seems nearer now, since thou art 

there ! 
And from the earthly home, so lonely now. 
Where hearts bereft in silent anguish bow, 
Sweet thoughts of love and longing will arise. 
Like incense, to thy hotne beyond the skies. 

But, one by one, thy loved ones, too, shall go. 
As pilgrims from this broken home below, 
Till, some sweet day, at last they all shall come. 
And thy glad heart shall cry: "They're all at 

home ! 
Thank God, they 're all at home ! ' ' 

BISHOP W. W. OKWIG. 

Low lies the pilgrim's hoary head. 
And fond hearts whisper, " He is dead ! ' ' 
The toils of weary years all past. 
He's found his rest and home at last! 

We mourn not as when honor dies, 
Or love grows cold, or friendship flies ; 
Not as when hope and trust depart, 
And anguish rends the bleeding heart. 



IN MEMORIAM. 201 

All, no ! Thank God, we mourn not so, 
When children to their Father go. 
When saints take up the victor 's song, 
Among the ransomed, heavenly throng ! 

We part as friends at eventide. 
Who linger at the river's side. 
And speak reluctant, fond good-night, 
To meet again at morning light ! 

We part, but love and faith go on, 
Beyond the sinking, setting sun ! 
We part, but friendship holds its own ; — 
A sceptred king, the heart its throne ! 

Farewell, thou venerable friend ! 

So true, so faithful to the end ! 

I love thee still as in the years 

We shared each other's hopes and fears. 

Please God I never shall forget 
Thy counsels wise that help me yet ; 
Nor ever can I cease to hear 
Th}^ kindlj' words of loving cheer. 

The work of love is never done ; 
The workmen die, the work goes on ; 
The tides of good, in ebb and flow, 
Roll ever on these shores below. 



202 IN MEMORIAM. 

Farewell, then, for a little while. 
Love 's labor shall the hours beguile, 
And soon we, too, — our labors done, — 
Shall rest with thee, at set of sun. 

"NACHRUF." 

The Departed Mrs. Elizabeth Krecker. 

I. 

At last, thy life well lived, thy work all done, 
Thy shining course of steadfast duty run, 
Thy time of rest has come at set of sun. 

II. 

Now in ' ' thy lot ' ' in glory thou dost stand, 

Yet livest on, in this terrestrial land. 

In other lives touched by thy gracious hand. 

III. 

Thy life was seed for harvests yet to be, 
And its full, ripened fruitage none may see 
Till breaks the day-dawn of eternity ! 

IV. 

We joy with thee that thy life's goal is won, 
Beyond the glory of the setting sun. 
Where Jesus waited with His sweet "Well 
done!" 
Blue Springs, Nebr. 



IN MEMORIAM. 203 

A FRIEND'S MEMORIAL TRIBUTE. 

A memorial tribute to the departed Rev. B. Hengst, read 
at his funeral at Yorkj Pa., Nov. 15, 1907. 

When dear ones, in our homes, at eventide. 
Go to their rest, to slumber through the night, 
We do not follow them with sad lament, 
We only say, "Sleep sweet! Good night, be- 
loved!" 
'Tis even so, as here we gather round 
This aged father, brother, friend, beloved, 
Who fell on sleep ere we could say "Good- 
night." 

We come, belated just a little while, 
Once more to gaze upon the silent form, 
Before the earthly chamber-door shall close 
Upon his quiet sleeping-place at last. 
Not with lament and woe and bitter tears. 
But with the chastened joy of perfect peace. 
We speak our late "Good night," ere long to 
say 
* ' Good morning, " on a fairer, brighter shore. 

Now let him rest at last ! His day was long, 
Its heat and burden great, its labor hard. 
And he was weary grown, the flesh was weak, 
Nor could his body longer fitly serve 
The high behests of his undaunted soul : 



204 IN MEMORIAM. 

So God called in the toiler from the field, 
And tenderly gave His beloved sleep. 

This man was God 's ambassador to men ; 
Right royally and loj'ally he bore 
The kingly honors of his holy trust. 
In manhood's early years God's call he heard, 
And his young, shrinking heart, by love con- 
strained. 
Gave glad response, nor ever backward turned. 

Steadfast and true, he wrought his Master's 

will, 
Unfaltering, preached the Word, reproved, re- 
buked, 
"Instant, in season, out of season," too, 
' ' In labors more abundant ' ' ; sufferings oft ; 
Privations many ; disappointments keen ; 
Yet reigned in grace triumphant in them all. 

He was a sower sent from God to sow. 

To sow and reap, on earth's wide, furrowed 

fields. 
At early morn he sowed the precious seed ; 
At eventide withheld he not his hand ; 
Beside all waters went he forth to sow. 
For harvests yet to be, while oft with joy 
He reaped where his and other hands had 

sown. 



IN MEMORIAM. 205 

His was a heart made rich with grace and 

strong, 
A heart with love aglow and fervent zeal, 
With tender sympathy of Jesus filled. 
Oft pouring its abundant overflow. 
In wealth of blessing into other souls. 
By faith he walked; by faith endured and 

toiled ; 
By faith he overcame ; by faith he saw 
Heaven 's glorious recompense of rich reward ; 
By faith, at last, he entered in, to be 
Forever with the Christ he served so well. 

Now, say ye not our aged friend is dead ! 
Nay, such as he die not ; he lives to God ; 
On earth he lives ; in human lives he lives ; 
Lives in the wondrous ministry of love 
That runs its course beyond the judgment 

throne. 
And pours its tributary streams into 
The very channel of the life of God. 

Speak not in pity of this quiet sleeper here. 
Because he gained not earthly fame or power. 
Nor heaped up riches for life 's eventide. 
For these are vain, and mocking shadows all. 
Compared with honors, riches, such as his. 

Oh, happy soul ! triumphant saint of God ! 



206 IN MEMORIAM. 

Life's highest goal, life's richest prize and 
gain, 

Life's fadeless crown, life's one supreme re- 
ward, — 

These all are thine, and thou art with thy 
Lord, — 

0, bliss complete ! — forever with thy Lord ! 



"A CHAPLET OF MEMORIES." 

A memorial tribute to four conspicuous members of the 
Woman's Missionary Society, who have gone home — 
Mrs. W. H. Fouke, Mrs. S. P. Eemer, Mrs. A. Haefele, 
and Mrs. C. N. Dubs. 

As fellow servants of the King, 

With loving, grateful hearts we bring 

A Chaplet of Memorial Flowers, 

To crown these cherished friends of ours. 

They lived full well life 's little day ; 
They walked with Jesus all the way ; 
They toiled with patient, tireless hand 
"For God, and home, and every land." 

For God they lived, these sainted four ; 
For Him their daily cross they bore ; 
To Him their loving service gave, 
Who came the lost to seek and save. 



IN MEMORIAM. 207 

For Home they lived — wives, mothers, 

friends, — 
Close bound in love's encircling bands, 
The light, the life, the joy of home. 
Whence never errant feet could roam. 

For every land they lived and wrought ; 
With labors, gifts, and prayers they sought 
To send afar the gospel light. 
To cheer the gloom of heathen night. 

They lived their day, these sainted four ; 
Their work is done ; they toil no more ; 
From grief and pain and care they rest. 
With Christ at home, supremely blest. 



EMMA M. DUBS. 

A friend's memorial tribute. 

Her body sleeps in far Cathay, 

Beyond the wide Pacific Sea ; 
Her spirit dwells in Endless Day, 

With Christ, where many mansions be. 

She is not dead ; she can not die ; 

She has but ceased on earth to roam. 
And gone to serve her Lord on high. 

While we serve here, "till we get home. 
14 



208 IN MEMORIAM. 

She is not dead ; she speaketh still, 
In works of love, in fruits of grace, 

In conquering faith, in words that thrill, 
In peace that wreathed her silent face. 

Thank God, whose mighty grace sustained 
This toiling, suffering, faithful soul, 

Till patient faith triumphant gained 
The saint 's reward, the victor 's goal. 

Sweet is her rest from toil and pain ; 

Rich her reward in work well done ; 
All earthly loss now richest gain ; 

At last the crown of glory won. 



"THE DAWN IS BREAKING." 

My weary waiting time is passing ; 

Slow creep the lagging moments by ; 
The lingering night reluctant going. 

Mine hour of glad release is nigh. 
At last, at last ' ' the dawn is breaking ! ' ' 
One moment sleep, the next awaking ! 

My work is done, my watching endeth ; 

The night far spent speaks day at hand. 
Soon shall mine eyes behold the glory 

That waits me in the Better Land. 



IN MEMORIAM. 209 

Thauk God, at last ' ' the dawn is breaking ! ' ' 
One moment sleep, then the awaking ! 

No more for me the pilgrim's burden; 

No more the wear^^ watcher 's prayer ; 
No more the heart 's unsated hunger ; 

No more earth's daily dole of care. 
Now let me sleep for that awaking, 
For oh, thank God, ' ' the dawn is breaking ! ' ' 



TO OUR DEPARTED SISTER. 

Sister beloved, we greet thee, we rejoice with 
thee, 
On this thy glorious coronation day above ! 
For thou hast overcome at last and gained the 
prize. 
The victor 's crown of everlasting love ! 

Long hast thou watched and waited by the palace 
gate, 
"With feeble hand upon the latch, and listen- 
ing ear. 
Early and late, until thy God the King within 
Hath bid thee enter in and in His courts ap- 
pear ! 



210 IN MEMORIAM. 

Well hast thou learned life's latest, painful les- 
son hard, — 
In thy long, patient, silent waiting at the 
gate,— 
That in thy Master's chosen service and employ 
"They also serve, who only stand and wait" 
— and wait ! 

Through hours of painful days and long and 
weary nights 
Thy patience had in thee its perfect work be- 
low. 
And upward, like the faithful martyr-saints of 
old, 
Through furnace fires of suffering, steadfast, 
thou didst go. 

Such blessed, fruitful life as thine we measure 
not 
By span of fleeting days and months and 
years of time ; 
But by the footprints of thy Christ-like minis- 
try, 
Thy deeds of patient love, that made thy life 
sublime. 

Though thou art gone awhile bej^ond our failing 
sight, 
Thy life, thy work, thy brave endurance, still 
abide. 



IN MEMORIAM. 211 

Like living seeds broadcast in fields of fertile 
soil, 
To grow and multiply in harvests waving 
wide. 

This world is better for thy gracious living here : 
Some hearts are purer, braver, stronger, and 
more true, 
Some homes and lives are brighter, richer, where 
thy Lord, 
Through thy sweet ministry of life made all 
things new. 

And now, with eyes unveiled, and heavenly vision 
clear. 
Thou canst survey the path of pain thy feet 
have trod. 
And feel and know, as we can not, how blest are 
they 
Who toiled, endured, and suffered here, and 
walked with God. 

O happy, ransomed soul! how sweet thy rest 
must be. 
Forever free from toil and pain, heartache and 
tears, 
"With Jesus and the glorified on high to share 
The fadeless glory of the bright, eternal years ! 



212 IN MEMORIAM. 

Thou art not lost to us, estranged, or far away; 
Thou hast but entered in the gate, with glad 
surprise ; 
And thou wilt not forget, till then, nor cease to 
love 
The dear ones who look after thee with longing 
eyes. 

Farewell, sister beloved ! A little while farewell ! 
The fleeting days will not be long till, one by 
one, 
We too shall cease from earthly sorrow, toil and 
pain. 
And follow up the shining way where thou art 
gone ! 

FRANCES ELIZABETH WILLARD 

' ' With God— With God— With God ! ' ' 

"For God and home and native land" 
Saint Frances gave her virgin heart away. 
With all the fullness of a love unspent — 
A pure, sweet love the world would fain have 

won — 
Nor ever did she break her plighted troth. 
For she was faithful even unto death ! 

Into this holy ministry of life 
Rich gifts she brought — not like to Sheba's 
queen — 



IN MEMORIAM. 213 

But royal dowry of the priceless wealth 
Of heart and brain, of graces wonderful ; 
And power she brought, of noblest woman- 
hood; 
Of purity that blanched the face of sin ; 
Of regnant will that could obey and rule ; 
Of patience that could suffer and be still ; 
Of gentleness like His that made her great ; 
Of lofty courage that could face all foes. 
Endure the anguish of misjudging friends, 
And hold her steadfast to the will of God, 
Though oft amid the strife the sweet, blue eyes 
Gazed dauntless through a blinding mist of 
tears. 

He who has ever chosen whom He would, 
Called Frances, as He called the ancient Paul, 
And swift "the heavenly vision" she obeyed. 
Nor lingered to confer with flesh and blood. 
Or weakly count the cost of sacrifice. 
She held not back from Him aught she could 

give — 
Nay, once for all herself she gladly gave, 
Nor ever from the altar fires withdrew 
The ' ' living sacrifice. ' ' She lived and died. 
Not for herself, but for the Lord she loved. 
A martyr life, a martyr death was hers, 
And fitly now a martyr's glorious crown 
• That f adeth not away. ' ' 



214 IN MEMORIAM. 

happy clay, 
"When like a homesick, weary, sleepy child, 
Dear Frances closed her eyes and with a smile 

' ' Crept in with mother ! ' ' Now she fully knows. 
As here in prisoning flesh she could not know, 

"How beautiful it is to be with God — ■ 
With God— with God!" 



HER LOVE AND PRAYERS. 

Mrs. Harriet Barnett Hastings, widow of the departed 
Horace L. Hastings, who recently entered into rest at 
the age of eighty-five years, sent the following beautiful 
parting message to her friends a few days before her 
death: 

* ' Tell them that I love them, and that they are in all 
my prayers. ' ' 

Farewell, dear heart ! Thy race is run ! 
Thy work of faith and love well done ! 
Thou didst go forth through toilsome years. 
Bearing God's precious seed, with tears; 
Now with thy sheaves of golden grain, 
Rejoicing, thou hast "come again," 
And thy good works do follow thee 
Through all thy blest eternity. 

Thy love — like His who freely gave 
Himself a sinful world to save — 
Thy love, that counted not the cost, 



IN MEMORIAM. 215 

Went forth to seek and save the lost ; 
To minister with tireless zeal ; 
The bruised and broken hearts to heal ; 
Glad tidings to the poor proclaim, 
And glorify the Saviour's name. 

Thy prayers, with Christlike love aflame, 
Wrought gracious v/onders in His name, 
And many, yet unanswered, wait 
Before the Lord at Mercy's gate, 
Wait, till in ways most wonderful 
He shall pour out His blessings full. 
And thou at last from life 's high goal 
Shalt see the travail of thy soul. 
With all its sorrows glorified, 
And He and thou be satisfied. 



MEMORIAL LINES. 

To suffering saints who have overcome. 

All hail, ye saints who suffered here below, 
Who toiled and wept along life 's weary way, 

By grace ye have o'ercome your foes and fears. 
And lo, this is your coronation day ! 

Long did ye wait outside the palace gate, 
With hand upon the latch, and listening ear. 

Early and late, until your gracious King 
Bade you come in and in his courts appear ! 



216 IN MEMORIAM. 

Well have ye learned life's latest lesson hard, — 
In long and patient waiting at the gate, — 

That in the chosen service of the Lord 

"They also serve, who only stand and wait." 

Through painful days and long and weary 
nights, 

Your patience had its perfect work below, 
And upward, like the martyr-saints of old. 

Through fires of suffering, steadfast, ye did go. 

Such fruitful life as yours we measure not 
By span of days and months and years of 
time ; 
But by the footprints of your ministry. 

Your deeds of love that made your lives sub- 
lime. 

Though ye are gone beyond our failing sight. 
Your life, your work, your goodness still 
abide. 

Like living seeds broadcast in fertile soil, 
To multiply in harvests waving wide. 

This world is better for your living here : 

Some hearts are purer, braver, and more true. 
Some homes and lives are brighter, where j^our 
Lord, 
Through your sweet ministry made all things 
new. 



IN MEMORIAM. 217 

And now, with e^^es unveiled, and vision clear, 
Ye can survey the path your feet have trod, 

And know, as we can not, how blest are they 
Who toil, endure, and humbly walk with God. 

happ3^ souls ! how sweet your rest must be. 
Forever free from heartache, pain and tears. 

With Jesus and the glorified to share 
The fadeless glory of eternal years ! 

Ye are not lost, estranged, or far away ; 

Ye have but passed the gate, with glad sur- 
prise ; 
And ye will not forget, nor cease to love 

The dear ones who look up with longing eyes. 

Farewell, beloved ! A little while farewell ! 

The days will not be long till, one by one, 
We too shall cease from earthly toil and pain. 

And follow up the way where ye are gone ! 



Death and the Hereafter 



TWO-SCORE YEARS IN HEAVEN. 

Just two-score years ago, this day, 
An angel saw our boy at play, 
And took him from our arms away. 

The flash of wings, the darkening skies, 
Bewildered him with swift surprise, 
And then he closed his wondering eyes. 

Perhaps he dreamed he lay at rest, 
Enfolded on his mother's breast, 
Like birdling in its downy nest ; 

Then, wakening in a warm embrace, 
Looked up and saw that wondrous Face 
That lightens all the heavenly place. 

And he was comforted, we know. 

On that sad day, so long ago. 

To be with Him who loved him so. 

We would not, if we could, to-day. 
Bring back the boy that went away, 
To walk with us the pilgrim way. 
218 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 219 

For him 'tis better far, we know, 

To be with Christ, than here below — 

But oh, our boy, we miss him so ! 

THE FORGOTTEN DEAD. 

She was a wife, a mother, and a friend. 
Kind, faithful, true, as any in the land ; 
The center of a loving circle fair ; 
The crown of home, its central jewel rare. 

One sweet spring morning, beautiful, serene, 
Unwelcome death appeared upon the scene, 
He closed the mother's eyes and juillid lips, 
And quenched the light of home in dnrk eclipse. 

The stricken mourners, wailing out ilieir woe, 
Around their dead, disconsolate, boved low; 
Then sadly laid the silent form away, 
To slumber till the Resurrection Day. 

A few bright years have bloomed and passed 

away. 
Since fell the shadow of that woeful day ; 
And now the stream of life flows on serene. 
As though that stormy sorrow had not been. 

Forgot ! So soon the absent dead forgot ! 
Love scarce can find the sacred burial spot; 



220 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

The pitying weeds and thorns have crept around 
And laid their humble tribute on the mound ! 

Ah me ! Are there no loving eyes to weep ? 
Are there no tender, gentle hands to keep 
The rose of memory blooming for our dead, 
A few brief summers, on their burial bed ? 

Forgot on earth ! Ah me ! How soon forgot ! 
But God our sacred dust f orgetteth not ! 
His sleeping saints are precious in His sight, 
And He will wake them at the morning light ! 



SHE SLEEPS WELL. 

Good friend, why grieve and weep. 
When thy beloved has gone to sleep ? 

In sleep she shall do well : 
And wouldst thou break the sacred spell? 

Nay, thy dear Lord will keep 
The loved one He has rocked to sleep. 

Then when the night is past, 
And day eternal breaks at last. 

Thy sleeper shall arise. 
To see His face with glad surprise ! 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 221 

So bid her now good-night ; 
Put out the watcher 's dimming light ; 

Ring soft the vesper bell; 
' ' For if she sleep she shall do well ! ' ' 



SHE LIVED AND LOVED AND SERVED. 

She lived and loved — she lived, and loved, and 

served — 
Lived wisely, richly, nobly, graciously, 
A radiant soul that brightened all the way 
Where walked her feet in life's sweet ministry, 
The solar light was ever in her face. 
And steadfast courage in her loving heart. 

Like some clear, silvery stream her life flowed 

forth, 
While song and bloom and fragrance marked its 

course. 
And the rich bounty of its overflow 
Poured into ebbing streams of other lives 
Full many gracious tributary rills 
To sweeten, purify, enrich and fill. 

She lived, and loved, and served. She liveth yet : 
For hers was aye the more abundant life. 
Whose living waters ne'er can run to waste. 
She loveth yet, for love immortal is, 



222 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

And ever walks with tireless, sMning feet 
The trodden ways of men. She serveth yet, 
In love 's high ministry, in earth and heaven — 
Here, where fond memory holds her still, and 

there. 
Where aye "His servants serve Him," face to 

face. 



THE LAST SLEEP. 

"I am so tired. Let me sleep," said a dying mother. 

" I 'm tired, and fain would rest in sleep ; 
Good night ! Put out the light ! Good night ! ' ' 

'Tis well, dear heart, so let it be ; 
God's will is best for us, for thee. 

Good night ! Out is the light ! Good night ! 
So He gives His beloved sleep ! 

IN GOD'S OWN TIME. 

We can not tell thee, for we may not know. 
How long the tides of time shall ebb and flow; 
We only know that when He deemeth best 
This troubled sea shall rock itself to rest, 
And when He speaketh there shall be 
The stormless quiet of eternity ! 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 223 
ABSENT— AT HOME. 

2 Cor. 5: 6-9. 

In the Book that lifts the curtain 
From the mansions of the dead 

This sweet word of truth is written, 
And my heart is comforted : 

"To be absent from the body" 

Is to be with Christ ' ' at home, ' ' 
Which is better, far, far better 
Than this sinful world to roam. 

So then, ' ' Blessed are the homesick, 
For they shall get home " to be 

Ever "with the Lord" in glory, 
Where the "many mansions" be. 

"THITHER SHALT THOU COME." 

Out of all the worlds that roll 

Round the Universal Pole, 
In Creation 's ample spaces, 
Man has found no resting-places. 

For the free and ransomed soul. 

God, the Lord has made a place — 
Canaan of the ransomed race — 

High and holy and eternal ; 
15 



224 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

Bathed in light and love supernal, 
With the shining of His face. 

There shall be the spirit 's home, 

Underneath the mighty dome. 
By Jehovah's wings defended, 
When the war of life is ended, — 
"Thither, thither thou shalt come." 

"Thou shalt come," but not alone. 
They shall rise from every zone : 
Kings and priests and hoary sages. 
From the graves of all the ages. 
Famed, and nameless, and unknown, 

' ' Thou shalt come, ' ' and by thy side, 

Rank on rank, the glorified — 
Precious babes and holy mothers. 
Spotless sisters, brides, and brothers, 

And with Christ the Lord abide. 

WHY SHOULD I FEAR? 

Why should I fear, dear Lord, at Thy command, 
Beneath Thy cross, in battle 's front to stand. 
Or, in the crisis of some dreadful fate, 
In helpless weakness Thy deliverance wait? 

To die for Thee, upon Thy chosen field, 
Is but to fall asleep beneath Thy shield, 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 225 

And deepest darkness of impending fate 
Is but the shadow of the golden gate ! 

"THE MORNING AND ALSO THE NIGHT." 

Isa. 21: 11; 1 Jno. 5: 19; Kom. 8: 22, 23; Eev. 21: 
5; Isa. 21:11; Heb. 4:9, E. V.; Isa. 21:11; Eev. 
4: 1; Eev. 21: 1, 4; 2 Pet. 3: 13; Acts 3: 21; 1 Cor 
15:28. 

Watchman, what of the night? what of the 

night ? 
We stand expectant in the vale below ; 
We can not see the far horizon's rim, 
As from thy lofty outlook thou dost see. 
Mayhap the reddening glow of morn afar, 
Across the threshold of the eastern gates, 
Already warns thee of the coming day. 
tell us, watchman, as we stand below, 
For we have waited long with hope deferred 
That maketh sick the weary heart, and fills 
To overflow the straining eyes with tears. 

Watchman, what of the night? what of the 

night ? 
Still we behold it brooding, dark and dread, 
With vulture wings, upon this stricken world 
That helpless ''lieth in the Wicked One." 
"The whole creation groaneth, travaileth 
In pain together until now," and we 



226 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

"Who have the first fruits of the Spirit" here, 
We also "groan within ourselves," in hope, 
And for the great redemption watch and wait. 
When He, according to His promise old, 
In matchless glory shall "make all things 
new. ' ' 

Watchman, what of the night? what of the 

night ? 
We hear the answer from the watchtower 

come — 
Thy strange and startling answer to our cry : 
"The morning cometh, and also the night!" 
watchman, speak again ! What meanest 

thou? 
Have we not waited for an endless day, 
A day no night can quench? And how sayest 
thou, 
' ' Also the night ' ' ? Shall that fair coming morn 
Fade also into darkness in its turn. 
Ere ends this old world's week of ages long 
And dawns the everlasting Sabbath morn? 

Watchman, what of the night? what of the 

night ? 
What of that night whose darkness bounds thy 

view. 
Beyond the morn that cometh o'er the hills? 
canst thou not discern, athwart its gloom. 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 227 

Some far-off promise of the kindling dawn 
Of that great day for which all days were 
made? 

Mount higher, watchman ! From the height 

of Seir 
Climb to the watchtower on the Patmos Isle, 
Where stands enraptured the seraphic John, 
And now, what seest thou? What of the 

night ? 
"The morning cometh, and also the night! 
And yet another morn beyond that night — 
Day of eternity ! The former things 
All passed away. New heavens and new earth. 
Lo, this the Day of Restitution ! This 
The day whereof God's holy prophets spake 
Which have been since the world began." 

It is enough ! The vision is complete. 
Complete in that "far-off divine event 
Toward which the whole creation" aye has 

moved — 
From God to God, in one grand cycle vast — 
Its consummation this : God all in all ! 

BE OF GOOD CHEER! 

Beyond life's darkening sunset skies 

Waits heaven's eternal day, 
And Hope's ecstatic visions rise 

To cheer our pilgrim way. 



228 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

We grow by high and holy thought ; 

' * We live in deeds, not years ; ' ' 
Our life 's enduring work is wrought 

In pain, and toil, and tears. 

Between us and the highest goal 
Are fears, and storms, and gloom, 

And glory's crowning waits the soul 
Only beyond the tomb. 

The hours that strike life 's funeral knell 
Speak not farewell for aye; 

Their prophet voices all foretell 
Our resurrection day. 



"THERE IS NO DEATH!" 

See 1 Cor. 15: 24-28. 

yes, there is! Death is an "enemy" that 
' ' reigns, ' ' 

And holds unnumbered millions in his dark do- 
mains. 

Death reigns and still shall reign till Jesus comes 
again 

To smite the mighty monster down — "last" of 
the train 

Of allied foes that He shall put beneath His 
feet — 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 229 

Then comes the end where all the finished ages 
meet, 

When Christ, the victor Son, "all things sub- 
dued to Him," 

Shall to His Father with unmeasured love and 
joy 

Deliver up the kingdom, and Himself again 

Be ''subject unto Him," and "God be all in 
all." 

THAT AWFUL CRY. 

On Zion 's holy hill the golden harps are still ; 

The swift-winged seraphs pause who do Jeho- 
vah 's will ; 

On angel lips amazed the jubilant songs have 
died; 

And silent round the throne are all the glorified. 

Up through the shuddering sky has come an 

awful cry 
That blanched the face of heaven and hell and 

earth and sky — 
A cry ear never heard, nor e'er shall hear again, 
That spoke unmeasured woe, unfathomable pain. 

God heard, heaven heard, earth heard, hell heard 
that woeful plea: 

"My God! My God! why hast Thou for- 
saken me?" 



230 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

The eyes of God are dim, and sad the heart of 

Him; 
Dark all the universe, and chill from rim to rim. 



The sun unveils his face, relights the blinded 
moon. 

And all the stars revive from out their deadly- 
swoon. 

And lo ! on earth a cross ! and there — vision 
dread — 

And there, with low-bowed head, the Son of God 
is dead ! 



THANKSGIVING FOR DEPARTED LITTLE 
ONES. 

We thank Thee, Father, for those little ones so 

dear, 
Sent by Thy love awhile our hearts and homes 

to cheer, 
And now safefolded in the better home with 

Thee, 
To wait our coming where we all shall ever be. 
Time can not rob us of that treasure Thou hast 

given. 
And safely, lovingly laid up for us in heaven. 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 231 
A FAMILY REUNION. 

could we meet once more in coming years, 
From life 's divergent trails of hopes and fears, 
To gather round the hearthstone once again. 
And sing the old-time happy home refrain. 

1 fancy in my dream 'tis even so. 

As all the beacon lights of memory glow : 

Once more our gracious Father grants the boon — 

We 're all at home as in the days long gone ! 

I see them all — the wondrous scene appears. 

As from a panorama of the years — 

In all the circle is no vacant place, 

In all the gathered group no missing face. 

The dear old father in his ancient chair. 
The saintly mother crowned with snowy hair, 
The boys — one, two, three, four — yes one and 

ail- 
Not baby boys, but stalwart, strong, and tall — 

The same in faith and love and petted names. 
As when they plaj'ed their happy childish games, 
Wild racing up and down the creaking stair. 
Or hide-and-seek around the mother's chair. 

And all the girls — the sisters sweet and fair, 
With laughing eyes and sunny, golden hair, 



232 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 

As tender, pure and true as when they lay- 
On mother 's bosom, wearied with their play. 

Then did the smiling, sleeping children seem — 
As now again I see them in my dream — 
Like straying, truant cherubs from above. 
Caught in the silken mesh of mother love. 



The vision fades. The evening shadows fall. 
Methinks I hear a faint, far, wooing call, 
As from a place beyond the setting sun, 
Where all the dear departed ones have gone. 

There, in our Father 's house, and face to face 
With Him who hath prepared for us the place, 
From sin and pain and death forever free, 
There shall our last, best home reunion be! 
July 25, 1917. 



OUR MOTHER. 

* ' Our mother 's dead ! ' ' 
The watching children said. 
Around the dear one's bed — 

''Our mother's dead!" 
To those afar from home, 
The swift, sad tidings come. 



DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 233 

And they, with trembling lips, 
And eyes in grief's eclipse, 
Repeat as in a dream — 
So strange the tidings seem — 
"Our mother's dead!" 

"Our mother's dead?" 
Oh, no ! it cannot be ! 
Death could but set her free 
In immortality ! 

She is not dead! 

Our mother lives ! 
Lives on a fairer shore ; 
Lives where they die no more ; 
Not like a stranger, gone, 
Forgetful of her own; 
Not far away, estranged. 
But with her love unchanged. 
She is our mother still, 
Ascended, to fulfill, 
From unseen realms above. 
Her ministry of love. 

Our mother lives ! 



234 DEATH AND THE HEREAFTER. 



BISHOP HARTZLER'S LAST POEM. 

The following is the last poem written by Bishop 
Hartzler. It was penned but a few days before his life 
closed and will come with almost the power and pathos 
of a message from the unseen land. On the very border 
line of the other life, his thoughts were with those to 
whom he ministered so long, for whom he felt such deep 
interest and whom he held in such high regard. 

Good Night! 

Good night, beloved ! This is my last good 
night ; 

The time of my departure is at hand ; 
The scenes of earth are fading from my sight ; 

I see the day dawn of the better land. 

Good night ! Mj^ course is run, my work is done ; 

I go to be with Jesus evermore. 
And soon will bid you welcome, one by one, 

With glad ''Good morning" on the heavenly 
shore. 



H- 488 b5 



H A 



88 85 








.^' 










c^'^^i^'."- .//^i'-^-^ //;,:^'% 

O^ • D . O 








',i>«i^ 







W^' 



^p^j,• 






























c" * 



'OK 



>^ r. 




J-* aV "^u • 




•^ A^ 



^O^C^V 















^/ 



r-. 






















'^oV* 



.*% 









• • ' • .^ 





,^ ... 









